Doesn’t he know what kind of a nightmare he will unleash after this article is published, not just for me but my entire family? For all he’s been going on about how much I deserve better from this town?
It’s almost like he’s been lying this whole time.
I don’t know how long I sit there, reading the article draft over and over again. It’s not like the words are going to change if I somehow take them in long enough, but I can’t seem to tear myself away.
Adam’s writing an article about a woman—me—who seems out of her mind, and her whole family enables her ill mental health. Her alleged “psychosis.” He’s only included interviews with townspeople who really, really don’t like me. The ones with my sisters didn’t even make it in here.
I don’t snap out of my fixation until the front door’s knob shakes.
They’re back.
31
I jump up and pushthe chair in, running to turn on the dining room light. I shouldn’t try to make this situation more palatable for him, really. But I don’t want to contribute to Adam’s idea that I’m not in my right mind. Now that I know he really does think I’m unwell mentally—and damn him because I’m going to have to go to Amá Sonya now and tell her she was right!—I don’t want to contribute to it.
William walks in first. He spots me and pauses. “What’s up? Did you have to call the fire brigade?”
I shake my head. “It was off.”
Adam follows behind, holding a couple of bags in his arms. “Sky. We saw your car…is everything okay? The toaster oven—” He glances in the kitchen.
I repeat my words tonelessly. “It was off.” My arms are folded to try and stop my body from trembling with my anger.
Adam looks back at me and double-takes. “What’s—” His eyes land on the stack of papers in my trembling hands. I can see the pieces being put together in his brain as his face falls. “No.That isn’t—whatever you’ve seen there. It’s not what it looks like.”
“You mean you’re not writing an article about how fucking out of my mind I am?” I ask. “That’s not why you included theclinical definitionof psychosis?”
“Psychosis?” William grunts, taking a seat in his armchair. “Who’s got psychosis?”
“According to Adam, I do.” I lift up my arm. “According to Adam, I’mbeyondbananas. The only plausible theory for my disappearance is I ran away. Maybe I caught amnesia, but that’s pretty doubtful!” I shake the papers so forcefully, one or two drift right to the floor.
Adam runs a hand through his hair. “Sky. That was…it’s such an old draft…”
“I don’t care that it’s old! Actually, no. The fact that it’s old is worse, because you courted me while thinking I was missing half my brain!”
Adam closes his eyes. “I can’t, Sky. I can’t write the article you want me to write. That right there is my old draft, and it’s going to change. Immensely.” He sighs and looks at me. His eyes can only be described as pleading. “But I can’t keep out everything that you don’t approve of. I have to include citations, research, for all the possibilities. I can’t just write that…old deities kept you alive back then. That would never get published.” He takes a step toward me, but I take one back like I’m a mirror to him. “I don’t think you’re missing half your brain. Or any of it. This is just…a complicated subject.”
I square my jaw. “I’m a human. I’m aperson. I’m not asubject!”
Adam shakes his head and clenches his jaw. “This…this is why I knew it might not be wise to do this. You know, become…more than our professional roles—”
I barely hold back a gasp. “So you regret us now? Is that what you’re saying?”
“No! Of course not!”
William grunts in disapproval. “Could’ve fooled me, son. You’re going to push away another person who loves you? Just like you did with your siblings? Just like your father did when—”
“Don’t you dare tell me I’m like my father!” Adam bellows, and I startle enough to jump back farther away from him.
William lifts his hands. “Look at the way you’re behaving. It speaks for itself, son.”
“Gramps. I’m saying this nicely. Mind your business.” Adam turns back to where I was, but I’m now by the front door.
“Sky. Wait. Don’t leave.”
I huff. “I don’t like angry, yelling men. I didn’t know you were an angry, yelling man.”
Adam’s shoulders drop. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Gramps. I lost my temper. But this—this conversation is so unnecessary. It’s absurd. Just come read my new draft. You’ll see. I don’t mean these things the way they read in the one you’ve seen.”
