He was staring at me, so I stared right back. I waited, to see if he’d say any more. But he didn’t. We both just sat there, and I found myself wishing, intensely, that he’d tell me right then about the mural in the garage. About the cornfield and the boy. Did Mom know about it? We were both totally silent, eating our gross potatoes. It’s funny how you can be not lying and also not telling the truth in the very same moment.

Mom was oblivious. “Now, that’s a fun thing to do! How creative.”

“Yeah,” I said, “I saw another one, that someone else had painted, and it gave me the idea.”

“Great,” said my dad, wiping his mouth with his napkin. “That sounds great.”

“Where is it?” said Mom. “Your mural?”

I glugged down a sip of fizzy water as I scrambled mentally to think of the next thing I should say. “Oh, it’s just at my friend’s house. On her bedroom wall.”

“What friend?” asked Mom.

This was the most interest they’d shown in anything I’d done for as long as I could remember. Though, to be fair, it was also the first interesting thing I’d done that they knew about in the same amount of time. I guessed there wasn’t much to ask me about lounging in my leggings and watching TV.

I prepared to lie. “Oh, just . . .”

Then I looked at Mom and Dad. They were both staring at me. And listening—really listening. For a moment, it made me want to cry, seeing how much they wanted to hear about my day of mural painting with some imaginary friend whose name I was about to make up.

Then it happened. I opened my mouth, and out came the truth again. “Her name is Jasper. I think I told you about her before, that day we went swimming?”

Mom nodded. “Oh, yes, but I guess I didn’t catch her name. I’d have remembered that. Jasper. How unusual, for a girl.”

“Yeah, well, I met her at the farm, taking a walk. She’s just moved to the neighborhood. She’s really nice. We’ve been hanging out.”

I sat back, instantly regretting my words. What had I done? Talking about Jasper with my parents was like telling grown-ups about Narnia. It felt like Jasper would disappear now, like I’d betrayed her and ruined everything. The secret was over. It felt like the Vine Realm might suddenly fade. Like I’d go back tomorrow and find no hole in the kudzu, no house there at all.

But amazingly, Mom just smiled. “I’m so glad you have a new friend,” she said, picking up her dish and taking it to the sink. “I know you get bored when Tess isn’t around.”