A Song to Take the World Apart by Zan Romanoff

Author:Zan Romanoff
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2016-09-13T04:00:00+00:00

THE FAMILY IS GATHERING for dinner when Lorelei walks in. Her mother has taken Oma’s old spot, so she’s seated silently at the head of the table while Henry and the twins carry out plates of food. Lorelei drops her backpack and leans against the door for a long moment, catching her breath. I’m safe, she tells herself. It’s okay, I’m here, I’m safe.

She digs her phone out of her pocket and tries to text Chris, but what? What is there to say? Mrs. Paulson will make it home soon enough. She’s seen Lorelei now, and knows her face. She knows who’s been taking up so much of Chris’s time. Lorelei hates to think about that awful woman tightening the reins and pulling Chris in.

She can’t bear the thought that he’ll let her.

All the high energy from earlier, the willingness to sing, is still gathered up in her chest. The contained electricity crackles against her bones before settling slowly into something bigger and darker and angrier, thunderheads booming misery through and through her.

“Stop being lazy, Lorelei, and come help,” Nik calls to her from the kitchen. “We all heard you come in. You can’t hide out and wait for dinner to be served.”

“Sorry,” she says. She drops the phone on top of her backpack. Just get through dinner, she tells herself, trying to quell the storm rising in her veins. Just get through dinner, and you’ll figure the rest of it out.

Henry and Jens are sitting down in the dining room, so when she walks into the kitchen, it’s just her and Nik. They’re supposed to set the table together. Usually they do, but tonight it’s already done.

“I would have helped,” she says.

“Didn’t know when you’d be home. If you’d be home.”

He tries to turn to leave the room, but Lorelei is faster. She grabs his elbow. “I’m really sorry,” she says. “We can talk about it, or—”

“We’re not talking about it,” Nik says.

The dinner table is always quiet, but somehow tonight Lorelei can tell that she’s being given a deliberate silent treatment. Nik doesn’t even ask her to pass things; he just points.

It gets so uncomfortable that Henry takes it on himself to make conversation, which he almost never does.

“Did you have fun at Zoe’s?” he asks Lorelei.

At least Nik wasn’t so mad that he wouldn’t lie for her.

“Yep,” she says. “Lots of fun.”

“You’ve been over there a lot recently,” Henry says. “You sure her parents don’t mind?”

“We just do homework,” Lorelei says. Her stomach gets tight. She swirls her fork through the soggy lettuce on her plate, dragging the tines in a slow, tight spiral. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Still.” Henry turns his head and then turns it back: it’s an old, instinctive gesture, of looking to Oma for support. “I was thinking that it would be nice to have you around the house more,” he says. “You have been gone a lot.”

Lorelei feels a flash of burning guilt. It’s unfamiliar: she didn’t think she felt like she owed her parents anything.

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