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Persephone started. Was Mama saying she had been the favorite? It wasn’t how she remembered things...

“Parker,” her mother continued, “was magic on the field, and he’s always been handsome.

You both did what you did well, everyone could agree on that.

But Parker didn’t always have sense to know if he was comin’ or goin’.

Your daddy knew you were my favorite and he knew why.

‘She’s just like you, Jonetta! Bullheaded is what she is.

’ I’m not so much now, but when I was younger.

..” She shook her head. “You’ve always been headstrong, and yes, it got on my dang nerves, but at least I didn’t have to worry about you falling in with the wrong crowd.

But my boy has never been so strong—you remember how he fell in with the Robinson twins.

And after that it was the Gordon boys. And then it was that gang across town. ”

Persephone didn’t dare interrupt the realest conversation they’d ever had.

“Sometimes—most times—I think Parker sensed it, saw that maybe I treated y’all different even though I tried to keep things

even. Maybe that’s why he always fell into bad ways. He needed to be steered, Sephie, so I needed to watch him. I always knew

you’d go after your dream with everything you had, and I guess I was harder on you, pushing you to help you develop yourself

to get there, ’cause I knew once I did you could really take off, but there were too many things that could sideline Parker.

I had to be a constant shoulder to him, so he’d listen to my counsel and come to me when he was confused. His personality

required a soft touch. He... he needed me.”

Persephone let it wash over her.

“And maybe,” her mother added, “maybe a weaker part of me needed to be needed like that. Maybe it let me feel soft sometimes

when most of the time I had to be so hard.”

Persephone realized she’d never looked at her mother as a whole person until this moment. The way her father had treated her

mother, how he’d just up and left despite knowing what she had to deal with when they were together, as a Black woman with

white-looking kids, and how much worse it’d be after he left, not to mention the lack of finances and general single-mom stuff.

Persephone hadn’t really stopped to consider how that must’ve been from her mother’s perspective. All the acting exercises

she’d done, all the people she’d inhabited over years of classes, and Persephone never put herself in her mother’s skin.

“I wasn’t perfect but I tried to do right by you. Wasn’t I at every recital? Every rehearsal? Every practice? Every everything ?”

Persephone’s mother’s voice, usually strident and unbending, broke now, and Persephone instinctively reached forward and grabbed

her mother’s hand.

They were both surprised at that.

Persephone kept her hand there, and her mother did not pull away. “You were at everything,” Persephone said softly. “You did

the best you could, and Mama, it really was enough. It was more than enough. Thank you.”

Her mother swept away her tears with the back of her still-smooth, still-soft hand, a hand that Persephone could remember

patting her cheek so many years ago.

“A mama,” her mother said, “can only ever do her best, and maybe, just maybe , sometimes she’ll forgive herself for it.”

Persephone swallowed. She wasn’t a mother, but she did know a lot about giving something your best and wishing you could’ve

given more.

15

It was late afternoon and John and Ruben had been driving all morning, circling through towns they hadn’t searched the day

before. Refugio, Beeville, Mathis, Alice... John could remember nothing even slightly familiar, and Ruben’s spidey senses

hadn’t tingled once. Now they sat staring at the foot of Ruben’s double bed, at the compact duffel full of money sitting upon

it.

The cash. Ruben, long-limbed and sitting on one end of the bed with his chin propped by a tattoo-covered arm. Persephone,

clad in a white tank and denim short shorts, all crossed arms and tan legs as she threw occasional glares at the door while

pacing from the foot of the second bed to the wall. This may as well have been an action movie.

There was a missing element, though, something about the atmosphere that would complete the scene.

“I want to try the towns even farther out,” said Ruben.

“That’s fine,” Persephone said, “but Parker told me we shouldn’t stay here. Not with what’s going on with him and those guys.

We head up I-37, find a motel or whatever, and search from there tomorrow. But John, have you thought about, you know...”

“No negativity in the atmosphere!” Ruben said.

“But what if the house isn’t here?” Persephone wasn’t being combative; she sounded concerned.

“Ruben,” said John, “how long have your family been living in that house?”

“Um, forever? My mom was there since before I was born.”

So Hannah’s husband hadn’t been visiting a previous tenant or owner. This was about to get awkward. “Do you ever remember

Hannah’s husband coming to see your mother?”

“Maybe. I told you, she has a lot of bigwig clients.”

“Do you think it’s possible that your mother might have dated Hannah’s husband?”

“Dude. Are you really trying to go there right now?”

“But you are familiar with anyone your mother might have been seeing.”

“Yes. And I don’t think they were married to Hannah J?ger.”

“You don’t think. But you aren’t certain.”

Ruben took out his mobile. “What’s his name?”

“Gunther J?ger,” Persephone said. “He’s always on those Check Out All These Rich People shows.”

Ruben’s mobile screen exploded with a collage of tanned, lined-with-distinction, pearl-teethed faces. Gunther J?ger had a

full head of dark, grey-streaked hair with an impeccable side part, whether he was donning a European-cut suit on a red carpet

or sporting aviator sunglasses and a polo shirt at a polo match.

“If he did come over,” said Ruben, “he definitely wasn’t dating my mom. Not her type. He looks like the villain in her telenovelas.”

Ruben clicked through a few photos.

“Wait, stop!” John pointed to an image. “There, that event.”

Gunther J?ger stood on a red carpet before a backdrop of two sponsor logos. But there was one logo in particular that jumped

out at John, a triangle encircled by a single ring. It was the same logo as the one on the back of True Water, the same logo

that had splashed the backdrops at several True Water–sponsored events John had been obligated to attend.

John asked, “Can you run a search on the logos and his name?”

The first search revealed Gunther J?ger to be part owner in a minor-league baseball team. The second revealed the logo of

Northstar Group, Gunther’s conglomerate: a triangle encircled by a ring. Northstar Group owned sports teams, a television

network, a food and beverage company (Starboard Food and Beverage, which owned True Water), and an oil-refining company.

Something was trying to lodge itself free from the murky depths of John’s memory...

“What’s wrong?” Ruben asked.

A disquiet, a dread... John didn’t want to leave the motel. His feet felt rooted to the floor. But this feeling didn’t

make sense. All he knew was that something terrible was going to happen, and it was going to be his fault.

Outside, a motorcycle engine rumbled and Persephone walked to the motel door. When Parker stepped inside he embraced her tightly,

and as his gaze moved across the room it settled on the small duffel bag. He walked over to John and extended his hand. “My

man!”

John shook it, leaving Parker to stare at their joined hands in amazement.

They released grips and Parker pushed a cigarette into his mouth. “That’s wild, man.”

The missing element John had sensed earlier: cigarette smoke. The room no longer stank of it.

Parker moved to light his cigarette but, as if remembering Persephone, took it from his mouth and tucked it behind his ear.

The room tilted and John stumbled.

“Shit!” exclaimed Parker. “Was it the handshake?”

John bent at the waist to regain his equilibrium. That strange sense of foreboding was driving him to near panic. The lines

of the room vibrated like strummed strings...

“He isn’t dying, is he?” John heard Parker whisper to his sister. “Can they do that?”

“Not twice. John?”

The room tipped sharply like a ship deck and Persephone leapt forward and John fell into nothingness...

16

Blue-green water.

Earth, lush and flat.

Two bulbs rising from the land.

17

“John?” the blonde whispered.

John blinked hard against the bright image. The water towers.

The water towers.

He had seen them before. The way into the Grey House was here, and it loomed somewhere near the towers. He looked back at the girl

and veiled his confusion. “I’m fine,” he said, getting to his feet.

The mohawked boy... Ruben... whispered to John, “You just had a major fade. We’ve gotta find this house tonight . I’m telling you guys, the portal, it’s here . The Power of Three. We wouldn’t be here if it didn’t mean something!”

Ruben... Persephone... and who was this?

“Uh, guys,” said the tanned blonde boy, “I should probably get goin’. The meet-up.”

Parker. Duffel of money, Corpus Christi—it all came back to John in a rush.

Ruben shook Parker’s hand and Persephone fingered the handles of the duffel and smiled at her brother. He smiled back, a sadness

passing between them.

Parker wrapped his fingers around the handles of the bag. “John, I’m going to figure a way to repay you someday.”

John wasn’t counting on that, but it didn’t matter, anyway.

“Funny, I’m gonna call you. Thank you for comin’ back. Glad I got to meet your friends. Don’t have to worry about you so much

now.”

Parker headed for the door, and Persephone glanced between him and John. “I’ve been thinking, why don’t we—I’m not saying

we go with you, but maybe we just hang back and make sure, you know, things go smoothly or whatever.”