“That wasn’t your choice to make!”
“It was better than watching you realize it all had an expiration date.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
LILY - AGE 18
The knockingat my bedroom door starts before I’ve even finished unpacking.
“Lily?” Mom’s voice carries through the wood. “Beverly Walsh just called. We need to talk.”
The tone in her voice makes me pause, one hand still holding the sweater I’ve just taken out of the suitcase. If Beverly Walsh is calling, then something has happened that she has an opinion on. She never wastes time spreading what she considers to be scandalous news. I’m not sure whyIneed to hear about it though.
“What’s wrong?” I open the door to find both my parents standing there. Mom’s lips are pressed into a thin line. Dad looks … disappointed.
“Have you been sneaking out to spend time with a boy?” Mom’s voice is tight.
My heart stops.They know. But how andwhatexactly do they know?
“Before you eventhinkabout lying to us, you should know that Beverly says Amy Wilson saw you with him.” Mom’s eyesnarrow. “Over at one of the closed down factories …Multipletimes. The whole town is talking about it now.”
The sweater slips from my fingers. I catch it before it hits the ground. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not seeing him anymore.”
“Of course it matters! Have you been lying to usevery timeyou go out?” Dad’s voice holds none of its usual warmth. “All those times you said you were studying with Cassidy? Did she cover for you?”
I don’t say anything. I need to know what they know before I open my mouth and lie.
“Answer me, Lily!”
“Yes, but not anymore. He doesn’t want to see?—”
Mom makes a sound like I’ve struck her. “Do you have any idea how dangerous that was? That boy is?—”
“You don’t know anything about him!”
“We know he was arrested.”
The air leaves the room. “What?”
“He broke into Feldman’s store on Friday night,” Dad says. “He managed to set off every alarm in the place. When the police found him?—”
“No! No way! Ronan isn’t like that. That’s not … he wouldn’t …”
“He was very sick. They had to take him to the hospital .” Mom’s words are clipped and angry. “Then afterward, they took him to the station. The charges are serious. Breaking and entering. Theft. Drugs.”
“Drugs?” I hang onto the doorframe.
“How long have you been lying to us?” Mom demands.
I don’t answer her. My mind is trying to make sense of what they’re telling me.
Hospital. Arrest. Drugs.
“I need to see him.”
“Absolutely not!” Mom’s voice rises. “You are not going anywhere near that boy. Do you have any idea what people are saying about you?”
“I don’t care what they’re saying!”