I shrug. Couldn’t she have waited five more minutes before barging in?

“She is,” Gram says. “I think Olivia and Max will be joining us as well, yes?”

“Zoo!” Clay pounds both fists against his tray. “Tigas!”

Mom wets a paper towel and wipes Clay’s sticky fingers. “You want to see the tigers, sweetie?”

My phone buzzes, and I look at all my missed messages. I’d been so caught up in Gram’s story that I forgot to check my phone.

Olivia: I’m in. Mom says she can drop me off in ten minutes.

Max: Have to teach a lesson. Can you and Olivia swing by later, though? I’m waiting on something that might be interesting. Don’t worry—I didn’t break the law.

Me: What???

Max: I’ll tell you when I know for sure.

28. The Outer Zone of the Cerebral Cortex

The biggest part of the cerebrum is the cerebral cortex. It’s made up of the famous gray matter you hear so much about. This “outer zone” of nerve tissue determines how smart you are and what kind of personality you have. But the coolest thing about the cerebral cortex is that parts of it will take over for another part if it’s needed.

Just like how Gram took over for Mom and how I’m trying to take over for Gram. We help one another out. That’s how a family works.

“The text said what?” Olivia hisses.

A man in a blue cap bumps into me before I can respond. “Excuse me,” he murmurs before heading toward the popcorn truck.

Clay tugs on my hand. “Churro,” he chants over and over. We’re waiting to buy some, and the line is moving at a glacial pace. It’s more crowded today than usual. The fog has burned off and the sun shines down on us, making me glad I wore shorts.

“Almost there, bud,” I tell him as patiently as I can. He comforted me last night. The least I can do is not get annoyed at him asking for the same thing twenty million times. I look back to Olivia.

“The text was from Yakov. He asked if I knew the truth.”

Her eyes widen so much, I worry they might pop out of her head. “The truth? That your gram is a spy?”

“Nope.” I shake my head. “That’s not it. I think the truth is that Yakov is actually Jacob from her stories.”

“What! Why do you think that?” Olivia pays for her churro and takes a huge bite. “Mmm.” Her eyes shut as she chews. “This is worth smelling disgusting animals all day.”

“It just fits,” I say. “There’s the picture of the tall guy who was totally in love with her. Then Gram tells me this story about how Jacob found her again in college and how he hid all his tattoos so he wouldn’t scare the students. Sound familiar?”