“I’m talking about what’s really going on. Unlike every single other person in this family.”

“Nathan.” She reached for his arm, but he pushed her away.

“You know what?” he said. “You just plain don’t care about Dad. I don’t even know what to believe happened anymore.”

She raised her hand, like she was going to slap him, but she did something else. She slapped her self instead, hard enough to leave a mark on her own cheek.

“Look who’s crazy now,” he yelled over the sound of her weeping. The fact that she was crying only made him madder. He was dimly aware of his sister, wrapping herself around their mother’s waist.

There was a tall stack of pancakes on his plate, with syrup dripping down the sides. He lifted the plate off the table and held it up. Then he dumped the whole thing on the floor and ran out of the house.

“Natie,” his sister called after him. “Natie, come back.”

“My word, Nathan,” Aunt Sal said when he stepped into her kitchen, breathing hard. “What are you doing here on a school day?” She was taking bread out of the oven. “Look at you. Not even a coat on. You’ll catch your death.”

“I need to talk to you,” he said. “I need to talk about Dad.”

She set down the loaf, put a towel over it, and pulled out a chair. She poured a glass of milk and set it on the table in front of him. “I know,” she said. “Your mom just called.”

At the word “mom,” Nate began to cry. He cried and cried, unable to stop. He cried so hard, he could barely breathe, so hard that the tears made his eyes sting and everything around him was a blur, like being in a car in a thunderstorm with the windshield wipers broken. It was a long time before he could speak, but Aunt Sal just sat there, with her arms around him, waiting.

“I hate her,” he wept. “I hate how she acts like nothing even happened. I hate how she doesn’t even care.”

“Your mom cares plenty,” his aunt said at last. “She just doesn’t know what to do. Your dad’s very sick. Yesterday he was transferred to the psychiatric hospital in Warm Springs.”

“I don’t care if he’s sick,” Nate said. “I need to see him.”

“I wish you could understand that your mom is doing the best she can,” Aunt Sal said. “It was bad enough, her seeing him. She doesn’t want you to get upset.”

“Not seeing him is what upsets me,” Nate told her. “Don’t you get it?”