CHAPTER 18

At Maya’s house, familiar, comforting smells of chile and cumin waft from the kitchen. Ms. Gonzalez is already home, which seems strange. She’s a nurse and usually has to work late on Mondays.

“Hola, nena.” Ms. Gonzalez wraps her arms around Maya. “Claire, it’s good to see you.” She hugs me next, gripping tight. Ms. Gonzalez always gives the best hugs, warm and strong and lasting just long enough to convince you everything will be okay. “I just pulled out a pan of enchiladas. Thought it would be good to have dinner all set before our doctor’s appointment.”

“How’s Papi?” Maya asks.

“Resting in his office,” Ms. Gonzalez says. “But you can go see him for sure.” She checks her watch. “We just have to leave for the appointment in about fifteen minutes.”

That explains why she’s home so early.

Maya starts toward the office, but I stand still, not sure if I should follow.

“Come on,” Maya says.

Slowly, she pushes the door open. “Papi?”

The room is dark and cool. Mr. Gonzalez loves plants, and he keeps pots of them on nearly every surface. But today’s late-afternoon light can’t push through the pulled-shut blinds.

I see him lying on the couch where Maya and I used to bring our dolls and have tea parties. He never seemed to mind us being there. He’d just keep working with headphones on, tuning out our noise but turning to smile at us or give us peppermints every once in a while.

Now Mr. Gonzalez opens his eyes. “Mija,” he says. “Oh, and Claire! Hello. How nice to see you.” His voice sounds tired, worn.

“It’s nice to see you too, Mr. Gonzalez.” I want to shake his hand, but I also feel like I should stand outside the bubble that seems to surround him, a bubble that’s fragile enough to burst.

“How are you feeling, Papi?” Maya asks. She sits on the edge of the couch.

“You know me.” He gives her a thumbs-up. “Thinking about training for a triathlon, actually. You in?”

Maya makes a sound that’s sort of like a laugh, but it has something else behind it.

“Seriously, mija,” he says. “I’m fine.” He pushes up to a sitting position and squeezes Maya around the shoulders. “How’s that project coming?”

“It’s okay,” Maya says. Her eyes search her dad’s face. “I started designing my slideshow. And I’m making a costume.”

“Good, good,” Mr. Gonzalez says. He closes his eyes briefly, presses one hand to his forehead. “That’s really good.”

I see what Maya means. Her dad would usually ask more questions, give tips, or pull up interesting websites on his computer. Now all he can say is “good.” But it’s obvious that he’s trying, that the one word is as much as he can manage.

“Claire,” he says. “How’s your brother?”

Maya flinches a little. It’s such a small movement, most people wouldn’t notice, but I do.

“He likes Starshine,” I say.

Mr. Gonzalez’s eyes hold mine steady. “I’m glad to hear that.”

“Yeah,” I say. “But it will be good to have him home. Hopefully soon.”

He leans back against the couch. “I wish him the best,” he says quietly.

Maya stares at the floor.

Then there’s a soft knock, and Ms. Gonzalez comes in. “Sorry to break up the party, but it’s time for us to head out.”

“Ladies, my dance card is full.” Mr. Gonzalez’s voice wavers, but he gives us the same smile I remember from when I was little. Ms. Gonzalez holds out an arm and he takes it, slowly standing up and moving with careful steps to the door.

When they leave, there’s silence.

Maya shakes her head and picks at her shoelaces. When she finally looks at me, I can see in her face the weight of something she doesn’t want to say. I can feel the words coming, like snow starting overnight, thick and quiet in the dark.

“Wow,” I start. “It seems like—”

“I need to talk to you about something,” Maya says.

I close my mouth, startled. She never interrupts.

“You’ll be mad at first,” she says, her voice wavery. “But”—she takes a deep breath—“then I know you’ll understand.”

Sparrows soar through the windows, hover at my shoulders. I’m not supposed to get this feeling with Maya, but it’s unmistakable: the rustle of wings, the flutter in my chest.

“You know how my dad’s been really—hard to talk to lately. Like, hasn’t been interested in my project, goes into his office and shuts the door as soon as he gets home from work, has to go to the doctor.” Maya looks toward the door. “I mean, you saw it for yourself.”

“I know.” I don’t say anything else. I just want her to keep going so that whatever she’s going to say can be out there. Done. Ready to deal with. It’s so much worse when it’s hiding in the shadows.

“Well, the doctors say he has cardiomyopathy, which happens because of stress. Which my mom says he gets way too much of at work. He has so many tough cases.” Maya covers her eyes with one hand. The next thing she says is so quiet I can barely hear it. “Cases like Andy’s.”

The sparrows dive down in a single rush of heavy wings.

“Wait,” I say. “What? Why would Andy have to see your dad? He wasn’t a ‘case.’”

Maya takes a deep breath. “That’s the thing, Claire,” she says. “He actually was.”

“Why would Andy have to go to court?” I wonder if my voice sounds as shaky as I feel. “All he did was take too many pain pills. He was hurt, Maya. He needed them. It just…” I catch Maya’s eyes, holding mine steady. Not blinking. “It just went too far.”

“That’s not all he did, Claire,” Maya says, a little louder now. “He wasn’t just taking pills himself. He was selling them to other people.”

That hot, sharp feeling I got in Mr. Hamilton’s barn is coming back. It’s like a flame, and Maya’s words are little puffs of air making it grow.

I shake my head. “No, he wasn’t.” But images of the pill bottles in the closet, the cell phone with the strange numbers, swim in my mind. I shut my eyes to squeeze them out. “No!”

The sparrows’ wings are fluttering so loudly, I barely hear what Maya says next. “I’m sorry, Claire.”

“How do you even know this stuff?” I ask. “And why didn’t you tell me before?”

Maya’s eyes fill with tears. “I wanted to, at first. I overheard my parents talking about it one night when they thought I was asleep, and I made them tell me. But they said your parents should be the ones to discuss it with you, not me. Besides, I could see how upset you were about Andy and I just thought—it wasn’t the right time.”

“It would never be the right time.” My voice feels icy. But Maya does have a point—if this is even true, I have no idea why my parents didn’t tell me about it. They should have.

“Papi said it was one small example of hard things he has to deal with every day.” Maya takes a deep breath. “He said he always tries to do his best, but sometimes the choices are really difficult. Like, it’s also because of him that Andy went to the rehab center.”

I shake my head. This is so confusing. “Andy decided to go. Even he told me that.”

“Well, that’s sort of true,” Maya says. “Papi didn’t actually force Andy, but he basically made it the best option. Andy picked Starshine Center because if he hadn’t gone there, he would have had to go to jail.”

“Jail?” My voice sounds like someone else’s. Angry.

“Wait a second. The point here is that Andy had options.” Now Maya’s eyes seem to be on fire. “It was actually really nice of Papi to give a choice. Can’t you see that?”

“Nice of him? That’s not much of a choice at all!”

“Oh my gosh, Claire,” Maya says. “Hello! Dealing drugs is illegal, remember? Look, I know how much you miss Andy.” She holds up her hands. “But this is probably good, you know? Maybe he kind of needed—a wake-up call.”

“No!” My voice cuts the air. All my happy memories of Mr. Gonzalez—all the ice creams and trips to his office and barbecues on the beach—they scatter away. “That was really dumb of your dad, Maya. It screwed up our family.”

Maya’s eyes narrow. “My dad did not screw up your family. He works really hard for people like Andy,” she says, her voice cold as gusts of wind. “It makes him stressed, trying to figure out how to do the right thing all the time without hurting anyone. You think I’m happy about the fact that he couldn’t even go over my Edna Beard presentation because he was up so late in his office, working instead of sleeping?”

“Who cares about Edna Beard!” My face heats up. People like Andy? At this exact moment, I wonder if I actually know Maya at all.

“My project is just one tiny example of why work is a problem for him!” Maya yells. “Here’s another one! The doctor told my dad to take a medical leave because he’s worried he might have a heart attack. This isn’t a joke!”

Nari’s voice comes through clear. She said her sister was “the coolest person.”

So is Andy.

Nari’s sister also made big mistakes.

So did Andy.

Sparrows whirl in circles. I don’t know how to feel.

But I do know that even though Andy started acting different before he left home, being at Starshine has just made him even more different. Now he might not even want to come home. And now I also know why he had to leave.

“Papi was trying to help, Claire.” Maya’s voice is calm on the surface, but I hear a storm gathering underneath. “Because that’s what Andy needs. Help. There’s nothing wrong with that, you know. Everybody has problems. You can’t pretend Andy doesn’t, just like you can’t pretend my dad will definitely be okay. The truth is, you don’t know.”

Her eyes soften a bit, but the words gathering inside me pierce like sticks, and I throw them at her.

“Andy would have been fine!” I yell. “He would have figured it out. He didn’t need Starshine. And if he hadn’t gone there, Mom and Dad wouldn’t be paying so much money for it. Did you know that’s partly why they want to sell Sunny and Sam?”

I realize my hands are shaking. I don’t like thinking about whether Mom and Dad would still want to sell Sunny and Sam if Andy hadn’t gone to Starshine. I don’t want him to be the reason I lose them.

“You know I’m sad about the horses too.” Maya shakes her head. She’s quieter now. Calmness has come back into her voice and it only makes my sparrows fight harder. “But Andy messed up. I feel bad that he got a back injury; that wasn’t fair. But he got addicted to pain pills and then he started selling them. That means he was hurting other people too, not only himself.”

I stand up, pull my phone out. My hand trembles when I hit CONTACTS and I barely recognize my own voice when I finally speak. “Yeah, Mom, can you pick me up? Maya’s parents are busy… five minutes is perfect.”

“Ask your parents how Andy got the money for his pills,” she says. “Then maybe you’ll understand.”

I open the office door. The room around me feels like a ship, pitching and heaving in storms.

I stumble down the hall, taking big gulps of air to make the sparrows leave.

But they stay. They’re whirling too fast for me to catch, their wings slapping my ribs.

No matter how hard I try to brush the sound of Maya’s voice away, it’s the only thing I can hear.