“We stayed very good friends over the years.” Yakov takes both Gram’s hands in his. He seems to infuse her with his strength, and her trembling slowly stops. Gently, he kisses her hands before letting go.

“Pretty handsy handler,” Olivia whispers, her eyes wide.

I nod. Was this part of how they kept their real relationship hidden?

Gram smiles warmly at Yakov. “We’ve taken enough of your time. Please say hello to Margaret for me.”

He returns her smile before turning to me. “You’re a good granddaughter to try to protect your babushka. I hope we meet again, Lulu.”

I’m not sure what I hope any longer. All I can do is keep pretending I have it all under control.

24. Hypothalamus

The hypothalamus is responsible for making most of our hormones. The ones that make you feel like you’re on a carnival ride spinning so fast that you’re not sure which way is up. I guess some of those hormones are necessary for life—just think what would happen if we didn’t have them. None of us would grow, or feel happy or sad. But if my hypothalamus weren’t so excellent at its job, I wouldn’t care that Gram is still lying to me.

We drop Olivia off. She looks happy to be home, which says a ton about how awkward the car ride was. “Don’t give up,” she whispers before hopping out of the car and running toward her house.

“I don’t like you going behind my back, Lulu,” Gram says, cool as can be, and I shrink in my seat a little. She doesn’t look at me when she talks, and there is nothing hesitant or feeble about her.

“Sorry.” I don’t know how to reach her. She’s in take-charge-Gram mode. This Gram doesn’t think anything is wrong with herself. This Gram is just fine. But how long before she leaves Clay alone in his high chair again? Or forgets how to get home?

“I met Yakov when he defected to America,” she finally says. “Back in those days, you couldn’t just fly to America; you needed to escape.”

“How did you get out of Russia?” I hold my breath. Will she tell me?

“My mother worked in the American embassy. One of the assistants to the ambassador helped get us out. He sponsored us when we got here.”

“Mark?”

She brakes so suddenly, my neck whips forward. “How do you know his name?”

I pick my words carefully. “You told me. You’ve been telling me stories about growing up there. Don’t you remember?”

Her breath comes faster. She shakes her head, and the car jerks to the right a little before she corrects it.

I point to the side of the road. “I think you should pull over, Gram.”

She listens, her hands trembling when she puts the car in park.