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But the shop, being empty, has nothing to say back.

CHAPTER 26

FOX

“You seem depressed.”

“Huh?”

I jerk my head up from where I’ve been, admittedly, spacing out in the kids section of the library, squashed into a tiny chair and paging through a nature magazine I’m pretty sure is for toddlers. But you gotta love the pictures of the animals.

“I said I’m pretty sure you’re depressed,” Wendy repeats, setting her stack of books on the table with a thud. “You don’t seem like yourself.”

“What? No.” I put down the magazine and try to give her a smile. “Come on. I mean, what do you even know about being depressed?”

Wendy takes her own chair and gives me a long, hard stare.

“Oh,” I say quietly. Right. I guess all the kidnapping and house burning down and brothers getting murdered trauma kind of adds up.

“Okay, well, still,” I say, and force an even bigger smile. “I mean, how could I be depressed in a place like this?” I gesture around at the walls, which are covered in zoo animals, dinosaurs, even a unicorn. They’re painted over cinder blocks, pretty faded and chipped, honestly more creepy than cheerful, but I think my point stands.

“I’m just saying,” Wendy says mildly. “You can talk to me if you want, you know.”

I almost want to laugh, even though she’s being really sweet, because how would I even begin to explain what’s going on to a ten-year-old girl? “Aww. What’s with the whole wise-beyond-your-years act?” I chuck her gently on the chin.

She scowls and bats away my hand. “Don’t treat me like a kid.”

“You are a kid,” I remind her.

“Yeah, yeah.” She brushes off the accusation like it’s a mosquito buzzing around her head. “Just, Fox, I know you pretty well, and for you to seem this…glum,” she says after a moment of searching for the right word, “feels weird, you know. Like Blue, sure. And Kit⁠—”

“Yeah, Kit’s always been moody,” I say quickly. “I think it’s the artistic temperament.”

Thing is, with Kit, I haven’t really been talking to him much since we went out to the Lagoon and I poured my heart out about Tink, and that was a couple of days ago. There kind of wasn’t anything more to say. And, well, if I’m being honest, if he has feelings for her or a crush on her or, I don’t know, anything at all, it feels like a topic I shouldn’t bring up. With either of them.

Because obviously I haven’t told Tink, either. So that’s two people I’ve barely spoken to in the house recently, which bums me out because they’re two of the people I like talking to most in this world. Wendy is maybe a tie for third place.

I sigh and rest my chin on my hand. “Maybe I am depressed.”

“See?” Wendy says.

I straighten back up. “Did I say that out loud?”

She smirks. “I just thought I’d ask,” she says softly. “You know, in case no one had thought to ask yet. I know everyone else is kind of wrapped up in other stuff.” She purses her lips. “I don’t know. I like you more when you’re not depressed, ’cause you’re fun.”

I look around at the library, where half the shelves are half empty, and all of the books are either faded, cracked, or held together with packing tape. “Yeah, this is a real blast,” I say, rolling my eyes. “How about tomorrow we do Disneyland?”

“Don’t deflect,” Wendy cries, even though she’s smiling.

I stare at her, also smiling, in spite of myself. “What do you know about deflecting?” I flick a thumb over the stack of spines of books she’s gotten. “Is there, like, My First Book of Psychology in there or something?”

“No,” Wendy counters. “I’m just…observant,” she says, lifting her chin. “And I know when people are lying.”

That she does, I think.

And I’m kind of tired of lying. Even if it’s just the kind of lying where you’re not saying anything.

“Okay,” I say, leaning in even further over the tiny library table. “But don’t make fun of me if I tell you, okay?” I don’t wait for her to answer. “I kind of have a crush on someone and I don’t know what to do.”