“Maybe,” I say. “I kind of want to talk to Yakov again. Alexei said Gram had a good reason to leave. If it’s more than her mom falling in love with Mark, then maybe Yakov will know.”

“Ooh,” Olivia says, jumping up and down. “Tell him your theory about Yakov being Jacob.”

Max grabs a baseball cap off his dad’s desk and puts it on. “Who’s Jacob?”

“I say you fill him in while we go to Yakov’s. I still have his home address.” Olivia waves her phone.

“Let’s go out the side door. If my dad’s overseer sees me, I won’t be going anywhere,” Max says.

We fill Max in on the details about Jacob while we walk to the bus stop. The fog drifts in, cooling the air and making the long walk easier. Max and Olivia walk on either side of me, and I can’t imagine doing any of this without them or why I thought I needed to. They’ve seen my memory at work and are still here, backing me every step of the way. With their help, I know I can figure this out and help Gram.

My HSAM chooses to kick in halfway into our walk, replaying the conversation with Gram’s uncle Alexei.

The memory plays slowly, word by word, and I keep stopping over one detail in particular. When I told Alexei about Gram’s memory loss, he mentioned that the same thing happened to Olga.

Who was Olga?

31. Soma

The cell body, or soma, is where all the magic starts. The dendrites and axon branch off of the soma. Without it you have nothing to build on. Sometimes you have to go back to the beginning to understand where you ended up.

We climb on the bus and scan our Marin Transit Youth Passes. The bus is packed, so Olivia sits in the first available seat. I grab one a few rows back, and Max sits across from me.

“We should have a plan,” he says. “He might try to keep stuff from us again.”

“Not when I show him this,” I say, holding up the journal I’ve been carrying around with me.

“What is that?”

“My gram’s journal,” I whisper, and tuck it away quickly. It feels wrong waving it around on a crowded bus, and I feel a little guilty for even mentioning it.

Max points at the book. “Why are we going to Yakov’s, then? Just read it.”

“I can’t.”

“I mean… I get it. You don’t want to be a loser and read her private thoughts or whatever. I know I sure wouldn’t want to read about my grandma when she was young.” He scrunches his nose like he smells something gross. “But, dude, I think you’re going to have to. It might have the answer you’re looking for.”