“Okay. Well, I’ll be back in a bit. Did you need anything? I can get you those granola bars you like. The ones with the chocolate chips.”

I hate granola bars and Clay won’t eat anything with chocolate in it. But this isn’t surprising, coming from Mom. “No, thanks,” I say.

Mom checks her text messages before flashing me a distracted smile. “Okay, well, text me if you think of anything you might want.” She squints over my shoulder to where Gram is helping Clay pick out books to read. Mom lowers her voice to a near whisper. “Keep an eye on Gram for me, okay? Let me know if she seems… not herself.”

I fold both arms across my chest. “What do you mean?” I ask.

Mom waves a hand like she’s painting the air. “Oh, you know. If she gets too tired or confused.”

I bite my tongue to keep from yelling. “Why do you say that?” My voice breaks and squeaks, like someone playing trumpet for the first time.

“Don’t worry about it,” Mom says, already halfway out the door. “Help her, okay?”

“I will, but she’s fine. Seriously. I don’t know why you’re even saying that.”

Mom glances back, her hand on the doorknob. “It’s not a huge deal, Lulu. Dad’s worried that she seems a little tired. But I’m happy to know you haven’t noticed anything.”

I nod and force a smile. “Yep. Gram’s been great. She said she was going to make her famous lasagna tonight.”

Mom tucks her thick hair behind one ear. “That sounds wonderful. I’ll call your dad and let him know.”

I lean against the closed door, my throat still scratchy from my faked coughing fit. I listen as Mom starts the car. What would happen if I told her and Dad the truth?

I think of our family before Gram showed up—of Mom in bed all day, of Dad trying to keep us out of the way, of me doing my best to take care of Clay. I grit my teeth. They wouldn’t help Gram if they knew the truth. They’d just have another reason to send her away. Away from me.

I have to hold them off for a little bit longer. Just until I find the memory that will fix Gram. And in the meantime, to show Mom and Dad that Gram is fine, I have to make sure she makes the best lasagna they’ve ever had.

I peek into the living room on my way to the kitchen. Gram and Clay are cuddled together on the couch, reading his favorite animal sounds book. The sound of Clay’s moos follows me into the kitchen.