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“What?” I ask. “We’re not using it. No one here even knows how to play.”

“Maybe Ellie would want to learn to play,” suggests Lucy, which feels like a suggestion made just to thwart me. I frown at her, then glance at Ellie.

“Ellie, do you want to learn to play the piano?”

Eleanor twists up her mouth in deep, thoughtful concentration. She takes asip of her milk, still thinking. When she sets the cup down, she finally answers, “I want to play the drums.”

“Good choice!” says Dad ecstatically, while the rest of us grimace. That’s all we need to go along with Penny’s violin lessons.

“Either way,” I continue, “if Ellie or anyone did decide they wanted it, I’m sure Ari would give it back. But for now, I guarantee she’d get more use out of it than we are.”

“Here’s the thing,” says Mom, dabbing her own paper towel around her mouth. “We would have loved for Ari to have it, if we knew, but… well. We don’t have the keyboard anymore.”

I blink at her. “What?”

Then I shove my seat back from the table.

Ellie, who we are constantly having to scold into staying at the table during dinnertime, immediately points at me and shouts, “No leaving the table!”

I ignore her and cross the floor to peek into the living room.

Sure enough, the keyboard is gone, leaving a gaping hole amid the clutter where it used to sit.

I spin back. “Where did it go?”

“We sold it,” says Mom, lifting her hands in something almost like an apology, though not a very convincing one. “You weren’t using it. I didn’t think you’d even notice.”

And she’s right. I never would have noticed, if I hadn’t wanted to give it to Ari.

I slump back into my seat. “You could have asked.”

“And you could have practiced more when you were taking lessons,” says Dad, even though I’m not convinced this argument is at all relevant to the conversation.

“I hope Ari can find herself a nice keyboard,” says Mom. “She really is such a sweet girl, and we do appreciate her helping out at the store.”

I narrow my eyes. “You are paying her, right?”

“Of course!” says Dad, sounding offended. But it had to be asked. I’m fairly sure Ari would work there for free, but I’m not about to tell them that. She deserves to get paid for her time.

“And how is the store doing?” asks Lucy. “Financially, I mean.”

Her question surprises me. The directness of it. We all feel the question immediately sending us out onto thin ice. I have to admit, I sort of admire Lucy for being the one to bring it up, when even Jude and I would rather go on pretending that everything is fine.

Again, Mom and Dad look at each other. Even Penny seems to tense. Only Ellie ignores the topic, too busy trying to make a tower of french fries on the table.

“Fine,” says Dad. “Slow. But it always is this time of year. Tourist season is coming. It’ll pick up.”

He says it with confidence, but what else is he going to say? The record store is doomed and we should all start panicking?

Then Mom smiles and changes the subject, asking Lucy how softball practice went earlier that day.

I pick up my burger again and take a bite. I’m sure it’s delicious, as it always is, but for some reason, I hardly taste a thing.

TWENTY-TWO

“Ugh. I can’t say it. Not again. Please don’t make me.”

Quint leans against the short wall. I can sense his smug grin, feel him watching me. But I only have eyes for the creature in the little pen. “Come on, Prudence. You can do this. Here, I’ll get you started. Repeat after me.Quint, you were…”