“Your nose looks better,” Aidy said when I came back into the kitchen. “It definitely isn’t broken.” She walked from the sink to the door. “We’ll be back soon,” she told the boys again.

“See you later, Olivia,” Nick said with a grin.

“Okay, Nick,” I said back, about to burst.

Aidy looked at Harrison like she didn’t understand what was so amusing, and said, “Grab the sleeping bags from next door, please.” She tugged my arm and pulled me outside.

We walked around to the front and hit the sidewalk. “Where are we going?” I asked.

“Ms. DeVeau’s.”

“Why?”

“We owe it to her to at least tell her what we found.”

Normal or strange, Aidy was Aidy, her morals skewered but persevering. An Aidy who cared about rules but kept secrets from her sister. An Aidy who hated to cheat but let her boyfriend try and save her academic career.

My last drops of murk slipped out. “Why did you think Nick would hurt me most?”

No longer capable of tripping her up, she maintained our synchronicity as she said, “I’ve figured out that I like to rewrite rules when it comes to the people I love.”

We made a precise turn, like scissors cutting edges.

“I thought changing what you two were to each other was going to fix what happened to you. There was no line between Nick and what he did to Marley. You used to wake up yelling, He killed her! Over and over.” Swift and graceful, she leapt over the uncountable cracks in the concrete. “But you’ve changed. Or I may have been wrong. Maybe both. Maybe neither. But I can see that it’s better for you now. And I’m sorry I did that. I was doing what I thought was best for you.”

“I love you,” I said, surprising her.

I thought for a long time that I didn’t love anything. But I loved my Marley so desperately and fully, I couldn’t see life outside of her. I chose her death as the moment that would forever define me, in spite of my therapists and counselors and neighbors and family and friends telling me I was just a kid, and I could bounce back. I could change it.

Marley’s love pulled me up into the clouds. Other love pulled me back. It was all a balance, so fragile, always ready to tip one way or the other. I could never love people like they asked of me. Not exactly. I could only love them the best I knew how. Chances were, they’d still love me back.

“I love you too,” Aidy said back.

“And Harrison?” I baited her to lighten the mood. Some habits would never fade.

“I know. What am I doing? I make no sense.”

“You make perfect sense to me.”