“Tilly.” Quinn’s voice sounded as unsure as Tilly felt. “I’m in uncharted waters here too. But we can at least try, can’t we? It’s never too late to make up for lost time.”

But it was. The past couldn’t be changed. Her mom was dead and going to stay that way. She looked at her phone again, opening Facebook because she was that desperate for a distraction, even though no one she knew used FB anymore except old people. “I’ve gotta get back to school.”

“I’ll drive you.”

“No, it’s not far,” Tilly said. “I’ll walk.”

Quinn looked hurt at that and Tilly told herself she didn’t care.

“How about I pick you up after school?” Quinn asked. “I could take you to dinner.”

“I’ve got dinner plans.”

“Breakfast before school tomorrow then,” Quinn said with enough hope in her voice that it almost hurt to listen to her. “Before I go back to L.A.”

Right, because Quinn wasn’t here to stay, just to get a good look at the freak show. That worked for Tilly because she didn’t want to do this, didn’t want to feel good about anything, even finding a sister, which she’d always secretly wished for.

Quinn started to say something else but a bee dive-bombed and she squeaked instead, and began waving wildly at the air with her free hand. “Ohmigod!”

“Stop moving,” Tilly said. “It won’t bother you if you just ignore it.”

“I can’t, I’m allergic!” She let go of her death grip on her branch and used both hands now to shoo the bee. “Ouch!” she yelped and slapped at her forehead. “I’m hit, I’m hit!”

“Hey,” Tilly said. “Careful, you’re going to fall out of the—”

Quinn fell out of the tree. Since she hadn’t gotten very far up there, she didn’t have all that far to go, but she hit the ground hard and lay still.

Tilly stared down at her, looking for a sign of life. “You okay?”

No answer. No movement either, and Tilly’s heart just about stopped. “Quinn?”

Quinn’s eyes were open, staring blindly at the sky. Then her mouth moved a little. Kinda like a fish who’d just flopped out of its tank and needed to get back in the water.

“Shit,” Tilly said. “Damn. Fuck . . .” Nice going, you get a sister and kill her all in the same day. She came out of the tree house, slid down the tree trunk, and then jumped, landing next to Quinn’s prone body. “Hey. Hey, you all right?”

More nothing from Quinn, although her fingers twitched.

“Okay, I’m calling 911,” Tilly said and pulled out her phone. She’d never done this before, but the dispatcher was calm and that helped. She gave their location and then bent over Quinn again. “An ambulance is coming.”

Quinn’s fingers were still moving, like she was trying to get something out of her pocket.

“Please say something,” Tilly begged. “Did you break your neck?” Then she realized there was a big red dot in the middle of Quinn’s forehead.

She really had been stung by the bee.

Quinn managed to pull whatever she’d been looking for from her pocket. “Open it,” she wheezed.

Tilly stared down at the tampon-size cylinder with a bright orange cap.

“It’s an EpiPen.” Quinn’s voice sounded strangled, like she couldn’t get enough air.

And Tilly remembered her sister’s earlier words. She was allergic to bees. Tilly took the EpiPen and stared at it. “What do I do?”

Quinn was working the button and zipper of her jeans, then struggling with pushing them down her thighs past a pair of Wonder Woman undies.

Then she grabbed the EpiPen back and stabbed herself in the thigh with it.

Tilly had to close her eyes because needles weirded her out, but almost immediately she could hear the difference in Quinn’s breathing. Which made her realize Quinn had been wheezing for air because her throat had started to close up. “Oh my God.” She leaned over Quinn. “Are you okay?”

“I will be,” she said thickly, like her tongue was swollen. “If you help me get my pants up before anyone gets here.”

“Too late.” Cliff crouched at their side, lending his hands to the cause.

Tilly would have been mortified—Wonder Woman? Really?—but Quinn just laughed a little.

“Better than my Hello Kitty thong, I guess,” she said.

“Seriously,” Tilly said. “You should stop talking.”

The ambulance whipped into the park, lights flashing, sirens wailing.

“We don’t get a lot of action here,” Cliff said apologetically.

“But I’m fine,” Quinn was still saying thirty minutes later at the hospital.

She wasn’t fine. Anyone could see that she felt like she’d been hit by a Mack truck and she was still having the shakes from the letdown after the huge adrenaline rush of the EpiPen injection.

Tilly stood at her side, half out of worry for the woman she was determined to hate with all her being since it was the only thing that deflected the pain of her mom being gone, and half because if she’d gone back to school, she’d have had to take the dreaded biology test. “You really okay?”

Quinn looked touched at the question. “Other than a killer headache, I’m really okay.”

When Quinn was finally cleared to go several hours later, Cliff gave them a ride, taking Tilly straight to school, just in time for last period—biology. Damn. She turned to Quinn. “Thanks for not dying.”

“Thanks for helping me to not die.”

Tilly grimaced with guilt. She hadn’t helped. In fact, she’d caused this mess.

“Not your fault,” Quinn said, apparently reading her mind.

But it sure felt like Tilly’s fault. And there was something else too. She really wanted to hold on to the ball of resentment regarding Quinn’s existence, but it had melted away in the face of the sheer terror of the past few hours.

“Who are you staying with?” Quinn asked. “Who’s taking care of you?”

“A friend,” Tilly said as vaguely as she could while trying to sound earnest enough that Quinn wouldn’t dig, which was the last thing she needed.

Quinn looked at her for a long moment and Tilly did her best to look innocent. And happy. Which was a huge stretch.

“Can I see you again before I leave?” Quinn asked. “If not tonight, then for breakfast before school?”

Right. A reminder that Quinn was leaving. “Maybe,” she said. “If you promise not to fall out of a tree and need 911 again.”

Quinn gave her a small smile. “I’ll do my best.”

Chapter 7

There are three stages of life:

1. Birth.

2. WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?

3. Death.

—from “The Mixed-Up Files of Tilly Adams’s Journal”

Quinn watched Tilly walk into the high school and sighed. “That went well.”

Cliff was driving calmly. “It’s not as bad as you think.”

“How do you figure? Because I chased her through a park and up a tree like a stalker, and instead of becoming sisters, I made a fool of myself, got stung by a bee, fell out of the tree, and scared her half to death.”