Chapter 89

“Why are you limping?” my mother asks. Sarajane apparently got to her, and she’s trying to stoke her own diversionary fire. “What’s up with your leg? Is that blood? You should see someone here.”

My hope is my body language speaks volumes. I can’t find it within me to utter one word.

“Honestly, honey, I was getting ready to call you.”

“Is my sister in on this?”

“I just called her.”

“Now that you’re busted.”

“If it’s any consolation, she hung up on me.”

“Can you blame her?” I ask in disgust.

Mom shakes her head. “She’s on her way. She wants to not speak to me in person.”

“How could we have known you took ‘it’s just me’ so literally?”

“Say this was you. Would you have told me?”

“I’m not playing What Would Barry Do?”

“You might not have.”

“Of course I would!”

“Me, petrified and helpless that my son was so ill, you wouldn’t have downplayed anything, delayed?”

It was only my gallbladder. “Why would you go through this alone, why?” I demand.