At first the engram cells in my short-term memory were the ones that reminded me to stay away from the long black thing plugged into the wall in the bathroom. Like when I post something on my story and it’s only there for a day. But eventually the ones in my long-term memory remind me to use a glove and take my time when I curl my own hair. Like those pictures I took last year that will be on my Instagram until I’m old and in my twenties.

If I can find a way to tap into Gram’s engram cells, maybe I can fix her. The trick is to figure out how to do it and keep her trust. I hope Max and Olivia will help.

Olivia smiles tentatively at me. “I’m sorry about your gram. I feel really bad about her friend Jacob. Do you think she ever saw him again?”

“I don’t think so. My dad’s never heard of him and I can’t find anything else about him, but I haven’t finished going through all the albums.”

Max unfolds a paper he’s fished out of his back pocket. “This is what I found out about that dude you met this morning. If you still want it, I mean.”

My hand doesn’t move to take it; I just stare at it like it’s a snake that might bite me. Olivia takes it instead. “ ‘Yakov Zhabin immigrated here from Moscow,’ ” she reads out loud. “ ‘He was in the Russian military, then went to college here and started a successful import business. He has a wife and two sons.’ ”

Olivia looks up. “The army must be where he got all those tattoos. And it doesn’t say he’s a doctor.”

“Maybe he’s in the Russian mafia,” Max says. “I’m pretty sure tattoos are their thing too.”

“Duh, Max,” Olivia says, hands on her hips. “Of course he’s in the mafia.”

“So, because he has tattoos he’s in the mafia, and if Gram is from Russia, she must be a spy?” I shake my head. “I need proof. This isn’t a game to me, you guys. This is my life we’re talking about here.”

Max watches me, his forehead wrinkled. “Whatever you need from me, I’ll do. I like your gram. She’s a cool lady. I just want to help.”

Olivia scrunches her nose. “Sorry, Lulu. But I think we need to find out more about Yakov. You have to admit he sounds sketch. Don’t you want to know for sure?”

“We could set up a meeting with him. Ask him how he knows your gram. See what he says,” Max suggests.

“We ran away from him this morning,” I say. “You don’t think he’s going to recognize us?”

Olivia leans against the kitchen counter. “Max can talk to him.”