“Yup,” Dustin said.
Greg walked back through the wall into the kitchen. He straightened his shirt, adjusted his glasses again, and sat back down.
“Sorry about that,” he said to Cathy. “I should mention that I'm not human.”
Cathy's mouth was still open. She closed it, then opened it again. Her hand found her coffee mug and gripped it like an anchor.
Dustin had never seen his mother speechless before.
It almost made him smile. “He's a reaper,” Dustin said. “He was sent to collect my soul. But I didn't die and he got kind of stubborn about it. Now he's trying to figure out what's keeping me alive.” He paused. “He's also a friend. That part was true.”
Cathy looked at the wall. Then at Greg.
“Do it again,” she said.
Naturally, Greg obliged. He was polite like that.
When he'd come back through the wall one more time, Cathy pressed her hands flat on the table. “A reaper,” she said.
“Yes, ma'am,” Greg said.
“You collect dead people.”
“I guide souls through the transition between?—”
“Dead people.”
“...Yes.”
Cathy looked at Dustin. Her face had changed. The dismissiveness was gone, replaced by something harder to read. She was recalculating. “You said something is keeping you alive,” she said slowly. “And he's trying to find out what.”
“Yeah.”
“And you think I know something about it.”
Dustin held her gaze. “Do you?”
Cathy didn't speak and something about her silence made Dustin's chest draw tight.
“Do you?” he demanded again, wanting her to say yes. “For three years, you've been calm abouteverything. I jump off cliffs, I take on stunts with a fifty percent kill rate, and youdon't care.”
“Of course I care!” The words burst out of Cathy with enough force to make Dustin sit up straight. “Of course I do!”
“Then why do you never act like it?” Dustin made himself ask. “Because you knew, didn't you? That I can't die.”
“Stop,” Cathy said, sharply.
“What did you do?”
“I said stop.”
“What did youdo, Mom?”
“I made sure nothing would happen to you!” Cathy's voice cracked through the kitchen like a whip. “That's why I'm calm! You can throw yourself off every cliff on the planet and it won't matter because I did what had to be done. Because I—” She stopped, but it was too late for her to take back her words. Her face had gone white. She was staring at the table like she could undo the last five seconds by refusing to look up.
“You made sure,” Dustin repeated. His voice didn't sound like his own.
Cathy said nothing.
