“We should go,” Max says. “See if the place triggers more memories. Maybe you know more than you think?”

“Ooh! Yes, Lulu. We have to go.” Olivia jumps up and down, clapping her hands.

Could the actual place trigger more specific memories? Even if I can recall the memories right now, I have no way of explaining how I’m remembering. Either I tell Olivia and Max the truth or go along for a field trip.

“How will we get there?” I ask. “I don’t think the bus goes out that far.”

“Uber,” Max says like it’s no big deal. “I take it all the time. I can have a driver here in five minutes.”

Olivia’s eyes widen. “You can do that? I thought you had to be, like, an adult or something.”

Max shrugs. “If they ask, I just tell them I’m eighteen. My dad got me prepaid Visa cards and I use them. No problem.”

I shake my head. “That’s lying.”

He pulls his phone out, his smirk more know-it-all than ever. “And you don’t lie, Lulu?”

Max calls me out with the challenge in his eyes. He knows that I pulled Remy back and let Olivia’s horse win and that I’m prying into my gram’s past without her knowing. Lately I’ve been walking a minefield of half-truths and misdirections. It’s impossible for him to know all the details, but it kind of feels like he does.

“Please, Lulu. You’ve come this far. Don’t you want to know?” Olivia clasps her hands together, begging.

I sigh. “Okay, but if the driver looks sketchy, I’m not getting in.”

I can only imagine the trouble I’ll be in if Gram or my parents ever find out about this, not that I’m planning on telling them.

A silver Prius pulls up with an older woman at the wheel, looking like she’d rather be doing anything else but this. At least she doesn’t look a killer who will dump our bodies in the bay. So there’s that.

Max sits in the front, and Olivia and I pile in the back. I stare out the window as we head past the town of Fairfax and over the hill to the valley. Traffic is heavy, and I wonder how long it’ll be before Gram gets worried. Mom and Dad might not notice at all.

Olivia chatters nonstop. Redwood trees stretch to the sky, blocking out the sun, and the darkness matches my mood. I wish I could go back to thinking my gram was nothing but a grandmother who makes the best pies. I’m afraid of what else I’ll find out.

“I think we’re close,” Max tells the Uber driver.

“Two more miles,” I say.

His gaze meets mine in the rearview mirror before turning back to the road. “That’s specific.”