“Understandable.”

“Julianne and Carolyn disagree about our choices.”

“That must be very hard for Carolyn,” I said.

Sam paused, surprised at my comment, and then chuckled. “Yes, well, I’m sure it is. Julianne is usually very…amicable. Carolyn isn’t used to being ignored. As I’m sure you could sense, it’s a bit tense between us.”

“They don’t believe I’m your daughter?” I asked.

He pushed up his round glasses. “It doesn’t matter to me or to your…Julianne. We are only interested in a smooth transition for you at this point, and…Oh, Erin. I’m sorry. That sounds pretty clinical.”

“You don’t have to dumb it down for me, Sam. You’re a surgeon. I expect you to speak intelligently.”

Sam laughed once. “Well, I’m not speaking to you as your surgeon. I’m speaking to you as your Sam.”

I grinned. The term was definitely growing on me.

My phone buzzed. “It’s Weston,” I said. I read the message, silently first, and then read it aloud to Sam. “Julianne showed me pics of the car. Badass.”

Sam seemed pleased and gestured for me to respond.

Can I pick you up for school in the morning?

He didn’t respond right away. A few minutes later, my phone buzzed again.

Wow.

What?

I was afraid that was going to get cut out too.

What do you mean?

Our morning ride to school together. Call me before u go to bed. Love the car.

Okay. Thanks! Me too!

He sent me a yellow face kissing a tiny heart, but I had no idea how to do it back and didn’t want to spend my dinner with Sam texting, so I just sent back the same typed-out wink face I’d sent before.

“Things going well with you two?” Sam asked as I put my phone in my pocket.

I nodded. “He’s been kind of weird since I moved in.”

“Yeah, I think he misses you a little bit.”

“Is it weird for you? That I’m spending time with him, and he was Alder’s boyfriend?”

Sam thought about it for a moment, but I knew he already knew the answer. He was just deciding how to word it.

“I want you to be happy. Weston is a good guy.”

“You can be straight with me, Sam. I did ask.”

Sam’s mouth pulled to the side. “You’re…refreshing, Erin. But I stand by my original statement.”

I nodded. “Fair enough.”

Chapter 5

THE PRISTINE, WHITE CEILING FAN WAS ON, ROTATING quietly. It didn’t wobble and nearly blended in with the smooth, white paint on the ceiling, which wasn’t cracked or peeling. There were no moisture spots where the roof leaked.

The closets and bathrooms of the Alderman home still smelled like fresh paint. Nothing like Gina’s rundown, moldy two-bedroom. It felt weird not to have seen her since I learned the news, but I conceded that she wanted it that way. Gina’s car was still parked at the grocery store where she worked, in the same parking lot, during the same hours she used to work, but I hadn’t gone in. Mostly because I wouldn’t know what to say, but also because Julianne kept the pantry full with everything I could possibly need. It was almost as if anticipating and fulfilling my every need was a full-time job for Julianne.

I ran my thumb over the black keyless-entry remote still in my hand. I hadn’t put it on my nightstand or left it on the kitchen counter next to Sam’s keys because I had an irrational fear that if I put that remote down, it would disappear. Everything that had happened to me in the last month was so surreal, so opposite of the way my life had gone so far, it was almost too perfect to believe. So I held on to the remote like I held on to the hope that I would open my eyes in the morning under the same pretty ceiling fan, down the hallway from the door missing the pastel letters.

I looked over at the digital clock on the table and sighed. It was two in the morning. After dinner I’d called Weston, and we’d chatted for an hour about the car. He wanted to drive around with me, but I was tired at the time. Now, lying on a mattress so soft, I sank into it, and sheets so soft, they felt a bit greasy (in the best possibly way). I couldn’t sleep.

I padded across the room in my bare feet and opened the door. It creaked, so I froze and peeked down the hall. It was dark and quiet. Sam and Julianne had been in bed for quite a while.

I stepped out onto the tightly woven carpet and took a few silent steps, until I was standing in front of Alder’s door. My heartbeat reacted as I reached for the handle, wondering if her room would be locked. I was afraid of what was on the other side, as if she would be standing there, screaming at me to get out.

I pushed down on the gold lever, and it gave way. The door opened, creaking a bit like mine, and I pushed it open.

The room was dark, but the moonlight pouring in through the windows offered enough light that I could see the pictures poked into the crisscrossed ribbon on a corkboard on the wall. Photos of the Erins at cheer practice and football games, hanging with Brady and Brendan and Chrissy, and of course, Weston. I swallowed. He looked happy, and that made my stomach turn, even though I remembered seeing him with Alder all the time with the same expression. The bright eyes that were only for her. I thought about how he looked at me.

It’s different, I told myself.

Her room was clean, and everything was in its place. It had been dusted recently, and the bed was made. I sat down on her black-and-white comforter and looked around at the various decorations on the wall. It felt wrong, but also exhilarating, a thousand times more than texting during class. Alder would have died all over again if she knew I was in her room—if she knew I was living there, and Weston was coming to see me. I wondered how Sam and Julianne rationalized all of this to themselves, balancing making me happy with not feeling like they were crapping all over her memory.

I walked over to her closet and opened the door. It was a walk-in like mine. Her clothes were pressed and hanging from dozens of identical plastic hangers like mine. But she had several cheer uniforms in her closet, and a lot of dresses and high heels. A plastic bag poked out from the rest of the clothes, and I switched on the closet light to get a better look. It was a prom dress.

I tried to get a good look without touching it, but I finally resorted to pulling it out of its spot and holding it before me. The remote that I still held made it difficult to maneuver my hand, but I managed to pull it out with clumsy effort. It was breathtaking. The neckline was one-shouldered, and it was practically backless, sheer from the waist up, with a few silver rhinestones crowding certain areas. She would have looked like a Greek goddess, and I imagined her wearing her hair up, slicked back from her face, in a high bun. Then I imagined her with Weston, and I put the dress away.