As we head to the car, Olivia leans in. “I don’t think that guy was really a photographer for the zoo. I’m just saying.”

I look back and see him standing by the edge of the gate, staring after us.

29. Axon

Axons take information away from the cell body. These nerve fibers make up the pathways in the brain. Without them there are no connections, and no connections means no memory.

What makes Gram remember details of growing up in Russia but forget how to get home? Why can she remember every detail of Jacob’s appearance but forget who I am?

The man following us must trigger something in Mom. A maternal side she’d buried underneath a mountain of depression and acrylic paint. As soon as we get home, she leaves Clay with Gram and Olivia in the kitchen and pulls me to the side. We huddle in the hallway near Dad’s office, and she takes my hand in hers. Her eyes swim with tears, and I look down at our hands so I don’t have to see her cry.

“Lulu, I know I haven’t always been the mom you needed,” she says, her voice catching. “Today at the zoo, Gram was incredible, and I saw how much you and Clay rely on her. When there was trouble, you turned to her.” She bites her lip and tries to compose herself.

I frown. Gram’s the one who is always there for Clay and me. It shouldn’t come as a surprise that we’d turn to her when there was trouble. “You didn’t stand up for us. She did.”

Mom sighs shakily and nods. “I deserve that. But I can see that I need to step it up and listen to you more. I remember how hard it is to be almost thirteen. I want you to know how much I love you. I’ve loved you from the first moment I knew I was pregnant. You do know that, right?”

“Yes, Mom.” I clear the irritating scratchiness from the back of my throat. It feels strange to have her staring at me like this. Like I’m the only thing that matters.

“I think you’re ready to hear this,” she says, and just like that, she has my full attention. Ready to hear what? I lean closer, and she lets out a breath as if it hurts to speak. I’m almost afraid of what she’s about to say.

Does she know about Gram’s past? Is she going to finally answer all these questions buzzing in my head?

“I’ve been struggling since your sister died.”

Mom takes another deep breath and looks down at her hands covering mine. It’s all tangled veins and fingers. Like a framework of muscles and bones tied together in a strange patchwork of grief.