Page 31

Trevor: YOU started it

Grandma Ruth: I DID NOT.

Hilary: You absolutely did.

Based on the way everyone else stopped interrupting after Hilary spoke, I deduced that she must be an important member of the family.

Grandma Ruth: I CALLED HER LONE WOLF. YOU KNOW THAT GIRL CAN’T STAY IN ONE SPOT FOR LONG. AND SHE CERTAINLY HAS KEPT HER DISTANCE.

Patty: Which became Loner.

Mason: Which became Loany.

Grandma Ruth: THAT WAS TREVOR.

Trevor: I was twelve and a linguistic pioneer.

I stared at the screen.

Lone Wolf?

More text messages came through, explaining bits and pieces of Loany’s life, though no one could agree on all of the details since she hadn’t been seen in eight years. From what I could piece together, Loany had always been the ghost of the family—the edgy, eccentric stepcousin from an exiled branch who intentionally kept her face out of photos, changed her number regularly, and never stayed in one state long enough to leave a paper trail.

She was an almost offensively convenient identity. Nobody expected her to speak much, nobody had seen her face in nearly a decade, and half the family couldn’t even agree on which state she had last occupied.

Julie: Where have you been lately, Sloane?

My stomach clenched.

There was still time to explain. I could tell them Grandma Ruth had entered the wrong number. Everyone would laugh, someone would apologize, and I would return to my quiet, solitary life with the knowledge that somewhere in the world, a family required an encrypted messaging app to debate different biscuit recipes.

The correct choice was clear. I’d always been excellent at identifying correct choices.

Making them was more difficult.

Sloane: Traveling around this area for a little while.

Vague.

Technically true, if traveling around the area included trips between my apartment, the grocery store, and the post office.

Mason: What area?

I froze.

Patty: Don’t interrogate her.

Mason: I’m asking one question.

Byron: All interrogations begin with questions.

Trevor: some begin with ominous lighting

Karen: Sloane, are you still avoiding social media?

I looked around my apartment. The television was on, displaying an unmoving screensaver with no sound. I still had ten cupcakes left on the covered tray. My laptop sat open to twenty-seven unanswered emails.

Avoiding social media was one of the few claims I could support without further invention.