I drive through town, looking for him. Past his parents’ house. Past Ash’s. The grocery store. The liquor store. The hospital parking lot. The bus station. 7-Eleven.

He’s nowhere.

The panic shifts into full-on crisis.

I drive around for hours, until the sun sets, and I realize there’s nothing more I can do but retreat home with my tail between my legs.

Any hope of quietly slipping away for a private meltdown is immediately vanquished when I step inside. I find a full house. Scarlett and Matty and Lenny and Joann and Mom and Guy. Guy made seafood paella and insists I join them for dinner.

We eat in the dining room. Matty holds Lenny and the way he looks at her is art.

I feed Reaper a shrimp under the table. I much prefer him as an ally.

Mom and Joann go back and forth trading stories while they plow through a bottle of red wine. They engage in a playful debate about whom the baby resembles more, Matty or Scarlett. They attribute specific features. The nose, the ears, the lips.

“I, personally, think she looks like me,” I say.

Scarlett picks at her food. She excuses herself halfway through dinner and doesn’t come back. I find her dozing on the couch. I sit beside her.

“I’m so proud of you,” I whisper in her hair.

She opens an eye.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I wasn’t sleeping,” she says. “Resting.”

“Have you slept at all?”

“A little.”

She holds my hand. “Did you talk to him? To Ian?”

“Couldn’t find him,” I say, my heart in my throat. “Don’t worry about it. Are you doing all right? Be honest.”

“I’m wearing mesh underwear,” she says. “It’s essentially a diaper. It hurts to sit. Hurts to stand. My nipples hurt. Everything hurts. I’m past exhaustion. And I feel this cosmic peace, this crazy joy. But I’m also sad.”

“Sad?”

“It’s hormones. I know it’s hormones, but still . . . I’m so sick of these wild hormones. I just want things to be normal. To feel normal. I know that’s not going to happen. Not anytime soon.”

“Normal is overrated,” I say. “Take it from me.”

“I’m proud of you, too, you know,” she says, resting her head on my shoulder. “You’re the best sister I’ve ever had.”

“Same. Hands down.”

Lenny cries in the other room.

“You can have Matty bring her to me,” Scarlett says, sitting up and adjusting a pillow. “She’s probably hungry.”

“All right,” I say, getting up. “So weird you made a human.”

“I know,” she says, grinning. “And such a good one, too.”

—

I grab my vape pen and sneak away, not wanting anyone to see me and offer their company. I’m hoping to sulk in solitude.

“Are you going out for a smoke?”

It’s my mother.

“No,” I lie.

“Yes, you were,” she says, picking up her coat. She throws it over my shoulders. “I know you like to be a rebel, but you don’t need to spite the cold.”