“Okay.”
I stared at her.
“You’re officially frightening me.”
Mom faced me.
“You can go with Ethan tonight.”
I folded my arms.
“If this is about him having Down syndrome—”
“No.”
“Because I’m eighteen.”
“I know.”
“He’s my best friend.”
“I know that too.”
“Then what exactly is happening?”
Mom sat.
“Do you remember when your father left?”
That was not the question I expected.
“What does Dad have to do with Ethan?”
“Nothing directly.”
“Then why—”
“Something happened that year.”
I stopped.
“You were twelve.”
“I know.”
“You stopped eating lunch.”
My arms dropped.
“How do you know that?”
Mom looked straight at me.
“Ethan told me.”
