While Mom locked herself away in her studio, Gram took me to riding lessons and doted on Clay. She saved our whole family—couldn’t Mom and Dad see that? Why would they want to move her to a retirement home?

I try to stay calm. “You need to tell me everything you remember,” I tell her. “I’ll record it. That way if you forget something, I can give the memory back to you.”

I pull out a notebook and pen. There’s something soothing about writing things down, where everything has a place, orderly and neat. It unclutters my brain, at least for a little while. Ever since yesterday, a smell or a picture might catapult me back in time to a specific moment. If I’m going to learn to control it, maybe writing things down can be the first step.

Gram wipes her hands as she considers my proposition. “Everything? That’s a lot of memories, yes? Are you sure you want to waste the rest of your summer listening to my old stories?”

“I want to,” I assure her, forcing a smile. “It’ll be fun.”

“Are you feeling okay?” She tilts her head as she studies my face. Her eyes scan me like she has X-ray vision. Sometimes I’m half convinced she does.

My leg jiggles underneath the table. “I’m fine.”

“Is this about yesterday? I told you not to worry about me. Everyone gets a little forgetful every once in a while.” She reaches out and fixes my bangs so they don’t cover my eyes.

I, on the other hand, like when they cover my eyes. A thick curtain of hair to hide what I’m really thinking. “I just think it would be cool to know more about your past. You know everything about me.”

Gram smiles, her eyes twinkling with humor. “Yes, this is true. I know that the boy yesterday makes you very angry. Why?”

I sigh. I should have seen this coming. Every time Gram sees Max at the stables, she smiles like she knows something I don’t. “Just because you think Max is cute doesn’t mean I do. He’s annoying and a know-it-all.”

“But also very sweet. It says something about him that he was so patient with an old lady.”

I shrug. “I guess he was sort of nice to you—”

“He was more than nice, Lulu. He was a gentleman.” She smiles again like she expects me to declare my love for Max Rodriguez.

Yeah, so not going to happen.

“Can we not talk about Max for a second, and go back to your stories? I want to know about your childhood. Who was your best friend? When did you first start riding horses? Things like that.”

“I am happy you want to know me, my sweet girl. But I think you are also a little afraid for me, yes?”

I look away from her all-knowing gaze. “Maybe a little.”