PART 4
“Mom?” Skylar said.
It was barely a whisper.
Her face had gone completely pale beneath the gloss.
“What does that mean? Seventh grade?”
Millicent didn’t answer.
Mr. Lombardi’s voice was soft now.
“Skylar. In the fall of seventh grade, your parents’ first dealership closed. It was in the newspaper for a week. For about two months, your family had nothing.”
“Tom,” Millicent said. “Don’t.”
“You told Skylar to say she wasn’t hungry. You told her never to let anyone know.”
“That is a private family matter—”
“Stan wrote it down,” Mr. Lombardi said. He turned the book so the lamp caught the page. “Not her name. Only the initials.”
He read it aloud, slowly.
“S.R. Seventh grade. Girl sits alone with a book. Says she’s not hungry. Don’t ask. Just keep her account at zero. Thirty-eight days.”
Skylar pressed both hands over her mouth.
Her eyes weren’t looking at her mother.
