Page 24

Tessa leaves, but I linger by the door.

I think about the day I found my grandmother unconscious. I had just returned from a long shift at the daycare center when I found my grandmother slumped over the kitchen table. There was a cup of cold tea next to her.

For some reason, I couldn’t stop thinking about that damn tea.

Instead of throwing it out, I took it to the police. I told them that I suspected the tea was laced. They looked at me like I was crazy, but they agreed to look into it.

They’ve been running tests on the sample, but we don’t have anything tangible yet.

All I had was a gut feeling I couldn’t shake. Something wasn’t right about that tea.

I take a deep breath and walk inside the room.

“Hi, Grandma,” I say.

She turns toward me. She smiles at me, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. I lean in for a hug.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes, darling,” she says, kissing my cheek. I hold her close, trying not to notice how frail she feels underneath me.

When we pull apart, I find her looking at me strangely.

“What?” I say.

“I overheard your conversation with Tessa,” she says.

I tuck my hair behind my ear. “How much?”

“All of it,” she says. “Is he bothering you again, Emma?”

My heart starts banging inside my ribcage again. I think about the white sedan trailing me this morning. I couldn’t make out the driver’s face, but I had a feeling I knew exactly who he was.

“Nobody’s bothering me, Grandma,” I say. “You don’t need to worry about me. Did I tell you I got a new job?”

“Where?” she asks.

“They made me sign an NDA, so I can’t tell you,” I tease.

I pretend I’m joking, but it’s the truth.I really can’t tell anyone that I’m working at Elysium.

She doesn’t look thrilled by the news. She knows that my dream has always been to open my own bakery. But until that happens, I’ll have to do something else to make ends meet.

My grandma glances out the window. I decorated the windowsill with fresh flowers and framed photographs of us so she would have something nice to look at when I’m not here.

There are deep creases between her eyebrows.

“What’s the matter?” I ask softly.

“You’re supposed to be living your life, Emma,” she says. “When I was your age, I was going on dates with boys and attending music festivals with my friends. I want you to experience all that. But instead, you’re worried about taking care of me and paying the bills.”

I take a sharp breath. “I made some friends yesterday.”

“You did?” She looks up at me, then narrows her eyes. “Don’t tell me it’s one of the nurses. That doesn’t count.”

“No, I met them at work,” I say. “They’re really nice people, and they’re fun to hang out with.”

She still looks concerned.

“If anything is bothering you, I want you to share it with me, okay?” she says.