Chapter 2

Mom turned to leave and accidentally kicked the bed frame. Only then did she glance impatiently at my body on the bed, frowning as she snapped, "Still sleeping? The sun's already up! Get up and make breakfast. Are you trying to starve the baby and me?"

I floated right in front of her and tried to talk to her, but she could not hear me. After that, she shuffled out in her slippers, humming a lullaby under her breath.

From the living room, I could hear Dad cracking eggs, and Mom's voice chiming in. "Add two extra spoonfuls of sugar. Beau always loved sweet things."

I drifted to the kitchen doorway and watched Dad plate the pancakes, noticing that they were heart-shaped. I used to love pancakes like that too, but ever since Beau died, Dad only made round ones. He said Beau did not like anything too fancy.

Mom took the plate and carefully placed it in the center of the dining table, as if she were presenting some precious treasure.

"Go wake her up for breakfast," Mom told Dad, her tone dripping with impatience. "Don't let her make us late for buying the crib."

Dad set down the milk and headed toward my room. I followed behind him and watched as he stood by the bed, his hand reaching out and pulling back several times before finally settling on the blanket.

He said softly, "Lily, it's time to get up. We're going to buy a crib today. Why don't you come with us?"

My body on the bed did not move, and Dad's fingers trembled as he shook my shoulder gently. "Lily?"

Mom's voice rang out from the living room. "What's taking so long? Is she pretending to sleep again?"

She marched into the room and saw Dad frozen by the bedside, which instantly set her off. "She's definitely faking it! She just doesn't want us to buy a crib for Beau! Let's just ignore her and go... Beau's waiting."

Dad did not move, staring at my body on the bed as his voice rose with emotion. "She's our child too."

Mom shrieked. "She is not! Beau is my only child! She's the murderer who killed Beau!"

She grabbed the photo frame from the desk and smashed it on the floor.

The glass shards cut Dad's hand, but he did not make a sound. Instead, he just silently picked up the pieces and wrapped his wound with a tissue.

Just then, the phone in the living room started ringing. It was my teacher, Sofea Parker, calling.

Mom answered, her tone instantly turning sweet. "Hello, Ms. Parker... Is this about Beau... I mean, about Lily?"

When Sofea asked why I had not come to school, Mom's voice went cold again. "She's just skipping school on purpose. Don't worry about her, Ms. Parker. Let her do whatever she wants."

After hanging up, she pulled Dad toward the door. "Let's go. We can't let her delay us from getting Beau's crib."

Dad glanced back at my room, his steps faltering for a moment before Mom dragged him away. The instant the door closed, I saw Dad wipe his eyes.

The house fell silent except for the ticking clock on the wall.

I floated over to the bed and looked down at myself. My face was still round, but it had thinned to the point of being gaunt, with a chin so sharp it looked like it could cut. My hair had grown long enough to cover my eyes, nothing like the buzzcut Mom demanded I keep.

I remembered the last time I got my hair cut. The stylist accidentally trimmed it a bit too short, and Mom screamed at him for ruining Beau's look.

When we got home, she put me on time-out for two hours and told me I did not deserve to have hair like Beau's. As I stared at Beau's photo, I suddenly felt like I did not recognize him at all.

By the afternoon, Dad and Mom came home carrying a blue crib decorated with teddy bear embroidery. Mom was beaming, setting the crib in the center of the living room while telling Dad, "Beau's going to love this... He always used to sleep with his teddy bear."

Dad glanced at my room and said quietly, "Should we check on Lily?"

Mom's face immediately darkened. "Why should we? When she gets hungry enough, she'll come out."

She sat beside the crib and rocked it gently while humming a lullaby, and her gaze softened.

I floated over and looked at the blue crib. It was small and delicate, exactly the kind of thing Beau would have loved.