But soon, if everything went according to plan, I wouldn’t have to worry about making Laura happy.

“I hope you’re not worried about Agatha,” she said.

I almost didn’t hear her, but at the last second I realized she’d been talking to me. “Oh, I guess I might be,” I said. “A little.”

She gave me a strange, unhappy smile. “I’d like to remind you,” she said, “that I’m her mother. And I realize that you’ve built an identity for yourself around the idea of being her companion, but—”

She stopped suddenly. Perhaps the stunned look on my face clued her in to how terrible she sounded.

“Actually,” I said. “That’s kind of something I wanted to talk to you about.”

She waited, spoon midway between her bowl and mouth.

“I’ve decided to go.”

“Go ahead,” she said. “If you’re not hungry—”

“No,” I said. “I mean go away from here. Go somewhere else. Which probably means the state institution, but . . .”

She stared at me blankly for a moment. “Margot, I’m surprised. I thought you liked it here.”

“I do,” I said. “But . . . I think it’s best if I leave.”

“Best for you?” she asked. “Certainly it isn’t the best thing for our family. It’s a bit selfish, if you think about how it might affect us, don’t you think?”

Yes, because everything revolves around the Sutton family. “I’m sorry,” I said. “This is how I feel.”

Besides . . . hadn’t she just said I was too attached to Agatha? Did she mean she depended on me, somehow? I had a hard time believing that.

I seemed to be having a hard time believing a lot of what Laura said lately, didn’t I?

She sighed. “Well, then. What’s your plan?”

I felt a little shaky. “I was actually wondering if I should just leave today. When Mr. Albright comes.”

That legitimately shocked her. She blinked and pressed a hand to her chest. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said. “There’s not nearly enough time to get things situated today.”

“That’s okay,” I said. “He can just drop me off. I think they have to take me.”

She watched me carefully. I expected some kind of argument. Maybe more pointed accusations of selfishness.

But then she shrugged. “Okay,” she said. “If that’s how you feel . . .”

“Thank you,” I said.

She leaned forward. “How are you feeling? You look a bit flushed.”

“I feel fine,” I said.

“Hmm,” she said dubiously. “You don’t look fine.”

“I am,” I said. “I promise you.”

Laura watched me steadily. “Go up to your room and get in bed. You’re not yourself, Margot.”

What? “I don’t need to get in bed. It’s lunchtime, and I feel fine.”

“You’re unwell,” Laura said. “This tantrum confirms it.”

“I’m not sick,” I said.

And then I thought, Uh-oh.