She pulled a tray out of the oven and dumped a dozen lumps of chocolate chip

charcoal on the table.

 

"Luke was so kind," Ms. Castellan murmured. "He left to protect me, you know. He

said if he went away, the monsters wouldn't threaten me. But I told him the

monsters are no threat! They sit outside on the sidewalk all day, and they never

come in." She picked up the little stuffed Medusa from the windowsill. "Do they,

Mrs. Medusa? No, no threat at all." She beamed at me. "I'm so glad you came

home. I knew you weren't ashamed of me!"

 

I shifted in my seat. I imagined being Luke sitting at this table, eight or nine

years old, and just beginning to realize that my mother wasn't all there.

 

"Ms. Castellan," I said.

 

"Mom," she corrected.

 

"Um, yeah. Have you seen Luke since he left home?"

 

"Well, of course!"

 

I didn't know if she was imagining that or not. For all I knew, every time the

mailman came to the door he was Luke. But Nico sat forward expectantly.