“I DON’T KNOW what you want me to tell you,” I say, squeezing my hand around my phone so hard it hurts. I need to calm down; I can’t get this worked up. I have to be at Verona in a half hour. Jubilee is working there after school, and I promised her I’d meet her—

“Ridley!”

If my dad will let me off the phone, that is. “What? I gotta go!”

“You know how important this is. Quit screwing around. Remember you’re here for a reason,” he says.

“Right, I’m here to get you what you need and stay out of the way.”

My dad’s barely even been home lately, and Allison stays locked in her room. Last night I even made dinner for all of us—I was feeling guilty about the whole fake-report thing.

My dad didn’t even take a plate, because he was “full from a dinner meeting,” and Allison just grabbed some and took it up to her room. It’s whatever. At least I don’t feel guilty anymore. I honestly didn’t think it was possible to like a house less than the Seattle house, and yet.

And yet.

“You know that’s not true, Ridley,” he says, his voice softening just enough that I almost fall for it. Almost.

“Which part?”

He sighs. “Why do you insist on making everything so difficult?”

“Guess I learned from the best,” I say, staring at the road below my window.

“Ridley, please. I’m happy you’re here. I enjoy spending time with you, but I need you to find me something I can use. We’re so close.” He sounds so desperate, I almost feel bad.

I want to tell him there isn’t anything, because so far there mostly isn’t, but I know there’s a huge chance he’ll send me back to Seattle for that. And I can’t. This house might blow to live in, but Verona feels like coming home. I’m not giving that up.

“I’ll keep looking,” I lie.

“There’s always something,” Dad says, which is my biggest fear. What if I do find something? What then?

There’s a little thump at my door, probably Allison listening in, and I hate her so much, even though our eyes are matching in desperation these days. “Dad, I have to go. I’m meeting Jubilee soon, and I’m skating there, so.”

“Why isn’t Allison driving you?” he asks, like it never occurred to him that I might walk everywhere or take my board. That maybe Allison and I aren’t even talking, let alone close enough for me to ask for a ride.

“I just want to skate.”