Chapter 15: Eighteen

Delaney's face softened, and for once I thought it might be real.

"Yes, sweetheart," she said. "I'm your aunt."

"You never told me."

"I was going to, after the exams. I wanted it to be a gift."

Cora looked at me. "Did you know?"

"Not until five minutes ago."

She looked at her father. He was still staring at Delaney.

"I'm staying here tonight," Cora said.

"Cora," Gilbert began.

"Dad. Go."

He went. Delaney went after him, and she did not look back at the stairs this time.

On Saturday morning, I put a gluten-free cake on the island with no candles and no card.

I had read the label on every box twice.

Cora came down at nine in the gray hoodie and stood looking at it.

"You made a cake."

"I made a cake. Eat it or don't."

She cut a slice and ate it standing up, and she did not say it was good.

At ten, the doorbell rang.

"That's her," Cora said. "I told her she could come. I want to hear what she says."

"It's your birthday. It's your door."

She let Delaney in.

Delaney came in with a flat white box, a card and a bright, careful smile.

"Eighteen," she said. "Open it."

Cora opened the card first, and a stack of folded bills slid onto the counter.

There were twenties, and some hundreds.

Under the money, tucked into a velvet case, was a flesh-colored earpiece smaller than a pencil eraser.

Cora held it up between two fingers.

"The new ones are almost invisible," Delaney said, bright and low. "They'll never find this. Retake day, you'll be fine. Our secret."

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