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towel to cover her chest. “Turn around.” Rae obeyed. She focused her eyes on the wall across from her. She’d painted it herself, going for a faux marble look in a deep green with black swirls.
    “It’s not really that bad,” Yana told her as she sprayed the cool Bactine on Rae’s back. “It’s already stopped bleeding.”
    “But what kind of a nut bucket does that to herself?” Rae muttered. She patted her back with the towel to dab away any remaining blood and Bactine.
    “I don’t want to hear you call yourself that again,” Yana said, her voice harsh. “They let you out of the hospital because you’re okay. You’re just stressed out this morning.”
    “You sound like my dad,” Rae said as she put on her favorite lacy lavender bra and then gingerly shrugged on her lavender shirt. “Except I actually half believe you,” she added, turning to face Yana.
    Yana opened the Krispy Kreme box and held it out to Rae. Rae picked a chocolate-glazed old-fashioned.
    Yana grabbed a cinnamon twist. “You don’t believe your dad?” Yana asked. She plopped down on Rae’s bed and ran her fingers over the green bedspread with the black diamonds.
    “You’ve got to know my dad. He’s this English professor—early stuff, like medieval; you know, 47
    Arthurian legends,” Rae said. She pulled the black leather chair away from her desk, a couple of the strange thoughts flashing through her brain, and sat down on the edge of the seat. “He’s just not all that well acquainted with reality. We don’t even have a TV.
    And you should hear him talk about my mother. He—
    ”
    Rae snapped her mouth shut. She’d almost told Yana the thing she’d spent her whole life trying to keep a secret. And not just a piece of it. The whole ball o’ wax.
    “He what?” Yana asked.
    Rae felt like her ribs were pushing together, dig-ging into her heart. “Nothing,” she mumbled.
    “Come on.” Yana brushed some cinnamon off her chin. “You have to tell me now. You can’t get that far and stop. It’s against the friendship code.” It might actually feel good to tell her, Rae thought suddenly.
    You really are insane, she told herself. What? You have so many friends right now that you can afford to scare one away?
    But Yana hadn’t freaked when she’d seen Rae’s back. And she knew Rae’d been at the walnut farm, and that didn’t stop her from coming over with doughnuts.
    “Come on, Rae,” Yana urged.
    It’s not the same as it was with Lea, Rae thought. I 48
    would have been handing Lea a weapon that she could have used to make everyone at school think I was a freak. But I’ve more than taken care of that myself.
    Rae swallowed hard, her throat feeling as dry and scratchy as an emery board. “Okay. My mom, she did something really terrible to someone.” She swallowed again, realizing that she couldn’t do this—couldn’t spill what she’d worked so hard to keep secret. Not yet.
    “Trust me—it was awful,” she continued. “So bad that she would have gone to prison, except she was found mentally unfit to stand trial. She died in a mental institution,” Rae said in a rush. “And my dad . . .
    Anytime he talks about my mother, which isn’t that often, he goes on and on about what a great person she was. He totally believes it. That’s the sick part. He’s not just trying to make me feel better.”
    “Wow,” Yana said softly.
    “Yeah.” Rae turned her doughnut over and over in her fingers. “So, anyway, you can see why I don’t exactly believe everything he says.” Yana pointed at the doughnut. “Eat,” she ordered.
    Rae obediently took a bite. She kept shooting little glances at Yana’s face. Was she wondering if Rae was just like her mother? Was she repulsed to be sitting so close to her?
    “I never believe anything my dad says, either,” Yana commented, her tone matter-of-fact. “But that’s 49
    probably because he’s always telling me how stupid I am. And how lazy. And how unreliable.