“Thanks,” she said, wiping away the last traces of blood. I don’t think I imagined the many layers to that one word: a thank-you for the compress, sure, but also for saving her life. Again.

She wadded up the fabric and then looked up at me. “Don’t suppose you want this back, do you?”

I held up both hands. “It’s all yours, Jillian. But maybe you should just stash it somewhere for now?”

“Good idea.” She wiped off her hands and then tossed the ruined silk into the alley next to the house. Looking far more presentable now, she walked over to the front door and knocked. While we waited for someone to answer it, I allowed myself a covert peek at Joshua.

In the darkness, I couldn’t see his eyes. But I could tell he’d given me a sidelong glance too. I saw his hand flex toward me, just once, before the front door burst open and a riot of noise from inside the house poured into the street.

Rebecca Mayhew stood in the doorway, looking almost as frantic as the crowd of people rushing around in all directions behind her. For a second she seemed baffled by our presence—particularly mine. But then she shook her head and pulled Jillian in for an enormous hug.

“Your grandmother is in the hospital,” Rebecca murmured into her daughter’s long hair.

“I know,” Jillian said, her voice muffled against her mother’s shoulder. “Joshua told me.”

Rebecca released Jillian so that she could breathe, but then wrapped one arm tightly around her daughter again. With Jillian thus secured, Rebecca raked her free hand through her black hair and looked back into the house. Now that her children were safe, she was obviously torn about what to do or who to help next.

“Mom,” Jillian said, trying to regain her mother’s attention. “What exactly happened to Grandma Ruth?”

Rebecca looked back at her daughter and sighed wearily.

“Well, apparently, your grandmother took some herbal supplements to get rid of her headache. But I guess she just made things worse, since whatever she took is pretty toxic. Thank God she was conscious enough tonight to realize that something was wrong and she needed to call an ambulance. She must have given Joshua’s cell number to that female EMT—that’s how we knew to come home from Antoine’s and why Joshua went to find all of you at that party.”

Beside me, Joshua squirmed uncomfortably. Gaby had called him, not an EMT. And his cousins hadn’t gone to a party—they’d conducted a séance under the direction of the boy who had poisoned their grandmother. I knew Joshua well enough to sense how conflicted he felt: he was relieved that his mom didn’t know the true story, just as much as he probably regretted the complex web of lies that we’d have to keep weaving.

Unaware of her son’s dilemma, Rebecca continued explaining the official version of tonight’s events. “Your dad’s at the ER right now. The doctor told him Ruth should be fine in a few hours—she just needed lots of fluids and rest since she had to get her stomach pumped.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw Joshua wince. At that moment I felt a fierce stab of regret that I hadn’t plunged Alex—or Kade, or whoever he was—into the darkness myself. Now it was my hand flexing, toward Joshua’s. But of course, I pulled it back to my side before we could touch. Before he even noticed what I’d done.

“So what’s the plan?” he asked his mother.

“Your dad is going to bring Ruth home whenever they release her sometime tomorrow afternoon.” Rebecca checked her watch and sighed again. “Actually, sometime today. When Ruth gets home, we’ll do Christmas then. After that, I think the entire family has agreed that we’re all going to go home early, the morning after Christmas, to give Ruth some quiet time to rest.”

Both Joshua and Jillian nodded, relieved—I think—to just get home. Jillian’s expression changed, however, when her eyes met mine.

“Mom,” she said, still holding my gaze, “this is my really good friend Amelia. You remember me talking about her?”

Rebecca gave me a vague look that was a cross between a welcoming smile and a frown of uncertainty. “Amelia … Yes, your name sounds familiar.”

Beside me, Joshua stifled a cough. He knew very well why my name sounded familiar—because he’d been whispering it inside her house for months. Luckily, Jillian kept a cooler head and continued with the fabrication.

“That party we were at tonight, Mom? It was at Amelia’s boyfriend’s house. See, she’s home-schooled in Wilburton, and she met her boyfriend online. He lives here, so her parents let her ride down here with some friends to visit him. But it turns out he’s actually a total jerk, and the party … it didn’t end so well—”

Rebecca didn’t wait for her daughter to finish. She released Jillian and strode over to me, stopping less than a foot away and studying my face closer. Only when she crossed her arms did I think about how I must have looked: pale, gaunt cheeks; tangled hair; dirty couture clothing.

“Did someone try to hurt you, honey?” Rebecca asked, low enough that only Joshua and I could hear. I could just see Joshua’s jaw clench, probably because he knew who’d tried to hurt me. I was weak enough to hope that Alex’s actions toward me had made Joshua want to hurt him back.

I nodded slowly, fighting to keep my eyes forward, on Rebecca and not on her son. “Yes, ma’am,” I whispered. I didn’t have to lie, and for that I was grateful.

It looked as if Rebecca might reach out to touch me, and I flinched. That would have been the cherry on this already-strange sundae: the first time I meet the mother of the boy I love, I’m covered in cuts and she can’t touch me. Not the first impression I’d dreamed of making.

Thankfully, Rebecca must have read my reaction as one of understandable shell shock. She gave me a close-lipped, sympathetic smile.

“Would you like a ride home with us, honey?” she asked softly.

“Yes, ma’am,” I repeated. “I’d really appreciate it.”

Rebecca jerked her head toward the door. “Jillian, why don’t you take your friend upstairs and help her get cleaned up? Amelia, honey, you’ll have to excuse the chaos inside—we’re having a minor family crisis.”

“I understand crisis, ma’am.”

Her sharp eyes studied my clothes one more time. “Yes. Looks like you do.”

With that settled, Rebecca nodded lightly and then turned to go back inside, giving Jillian’s shoulder a gentle squeeze as she passed.

Once her mother had disappeared from view, Jillian caught my eye. “You can … stay in my room tonight. If you want.”

She’d started to accept me a bit, but I still heard some lingering reluctance in her tone.

Before I could tell her that I’d just find a spare corner and go invisible, Joshua—who’d been silent this entire time—finally spoke.

“Amelia can take my bed. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

Jillian’s eyes darted back and forth between Joshua and me, like she was watching a tennis match. Which was ironic, actually, considering the fact that neither Joshua nor I seemed to breathe, much less move.

“Well,” Jillian said, after an awkwardly long pause, “you kids have fun with that conversation. I’m calling dibs on the second-floor shower ’cause it’s the biggest. So … good night.”

She gave me one last meaningful look before ducking through the open doorway and into the house.

After she’d gone, the silence drew out like a knife. Joshua and I both stood rigid, motionless in the flickering light of the gas lamps. The air between us felt charged, but by what, I wasn’t sure. Anger? Desire? Uncertainty?

Eventually, Joshua spoke. “The joke’s on Jillian—the hot water went out this morning on the second floor, and only on the second floor.”

“Should we tell her?” I asked. I took a sidelong glance, and saw the corner of his mouth lift slightly.

“And spoil the fun?” he said. “Shame on you, Amelia. I thought I knew you so well.”