“Well, as my dad said, people can get obsessed about their fifteen minutes of fame. But my family takes care of our own, and you are family. This town also takes care of its own. I mean, everyone practically thinks you’re a Gleason anyway. Oh!” Marian’s hand goes up in front of her face.

“What?” I ask, afraid of the answer.

She shakes her head. “Nothing, I just realized something.” She studies me for a second before continuing. “I know you don’t want to talk about your mom, but you know what this means?”

“That my life has been a lie,” I reply, the constant echo inside my head.

“You probably have aunts and uncles, a grandmother and grandfather. Cousins!” Marian’s face lights up, ignoring the dread that has enveloped my entire body. Marian has been surrounded by a large family her whole life. It’s the only thing she’s ever known. There might be this other huge family out there that I belong to, but they are strangers to me.

Shouldn’t I feel like there’s this part of me that’s missing? But I feel nothing. I’m empty inside.

Marian looks confused at my nonreaction to having a family. I should be happy that there’s a piece to the puzzle of my life that will be put into place.

But I’m not.

I don’t want any of this.

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter

FOURTEEN

I’ve never been the type of person who needs to be entertained. If Dad has to work late, I stay in my room and read. Or watch TV. Or just stare out the window and daydream.

I wish I could just think of something now to take me away.

But I can’t. No matter what I try to do to distract myself, the truth comes crashing down around me.

I let out a loud groan in frustration, and it echoes throughout Marian’s empty house. It isn’t even noon on the longest morning of my life. Marian is babysitting while her parents are out running errands. At least that’s the story I was told, although I’m convinced they’re probably at some emergency Gleason meeting to discuss yours truly.

Baxter has been happily running around the backyard barking at squirrels or, at one point, his own shadow. I took him for a walk earlier, but it was unsettling. People I’ve known since the day I moved here would either greet me with an especially cheery disposition or they’d give me a look of pity.

I can’t escape the truth anywhere.

So I decided to stay inside, to confine myself to the Gleason house. Just like a prisoner. Although unlike Dad, I’m innocent.

Even homework, which can usually occupy hours of my time, isn’t helping. I try to work ahead in every subject, but I find myself reading the same sentence over and over again. Nothing sticks.