“Sebastian doesn’t care about grades.”
“He only pretends not to care about things.”
“Are you two still fighting?”
I almost laughed. “Of course not.”
“Then why weren’t you at my party last night?”
I stared at her. “Last night…”
“Oh, my god. You forgot.” Faraday stood up and began to pace. “You never forget anything.”
“I was in a car accident.”
“It’s more than that. You don’t call medearanymore. You don’t sound like you. You stand different, like you’re afraid of the ground. Where’smyJessica?”
In the hospital? On the side of the road by that old oak tree? Or maybe Faraday’s Jessica was still in that small room.
Maybe killing Hiromi was the crash that had changed me.
“You don’t even look the same.”
“But isn’t my new nose rakish?” The word sounded flat from repetition. Faraday didn’t even smile. If I couldn’t fool her, how was I going to survive my family?
“It’s not just how you look, it’s how you lookat me. Like I make you sad! Are we still friends?”
We had never been friends. She’d always been prey—the weakling to cut from the herd. But now I was the weakling.
“Of course we’re friends,” I said.
“You hesitated. You never used to hesitate.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You never used to apologize either.” She stopped her pacing and stood in front of me, her face flushed again. “You arenotfine. You are not you! Do you even care about me anymore? Or Sebastian?”
“What does he—”
“I did something silly,” she said. “I mean, it was brave, and it worked. But you should probably know about it, just in case.”
The emergency revealed, at last. “What did you do, dear?”
“I talked to him—my father’s old business partner. The one you fixed.”
“Why, Faraday?”
“He didn’t want to talk to me, but I had to know. That broken little finger seemed like nothing. But it wasn’t nothing, was it? Telling me about it made him throw up!” She shook her head in wonder. “He was shaking. He offered me all the money in his wallet just to let him walk away. It was glorious.”
I took her hands. “You aren’t supposed to know these things, Faraday.”
“But there’s an issue. With my family. Can I have another drink?”
I let out a sigh, and made a second Corpse Reviver in silence. Still no ice, but I added a dash of absinthe for bitterness.
Faraday didn’t complain, just sipped it—apologetic now, ladylike.
“It’s Oscar Junior,” she began. “He thinks he’s so much smarter than us since he got into Harvard, but he’s rather dim. He should’ve gone straight to Mother.”
