Page 565 of Dark Love

“He said he hasn’t. That I’m the first.”

“And do you believe Payne?”

Imogene nods.

“Then you can eliminate that worry.”

“But what if I don’t love him?”

Oh. “You need to figure that out. Maybe your therapist is right.”

The front door opens and Mom shouts, “Dahlia!”

Imogene pops off the stool. Her head swings around and she searches for a place to hide.

“Imogene—” I keep my voice pitched low. “—that’s my mother. You’re safe. No one is going to hurt you.” But Mom might hurt me when she finds Vex and Payne out in my garden.

Not good.

So not good.

“Your mother?” Imogene’s body settles a bit, but her hands keep trembling.

“She likes to show up unannounced on occasion to check on me.” More likely, she wants to meet Max.

“Dahlia, are you home?”

I wish I wasn’t. Though she’d probably go house to house looking for Max if I wasn’t. “We’re in the kitchen.” In deference to Imogene’s stress level, I keep my voice as low as possible while shouting to Mom.

“We? Do you have a man over?”

Mom! What if I did? Though Max would probably laugh it off, since I don’t doubt his mother would do the same.

She freezes as soon as she steps into the kitchen. “That’s not Max.”

“This is my friend Imogene.”

Mom completely ignores Imogene even as her eyes move back and forth between the two of us. “Have you developed an eating disorder again? Your father was wrong. You shouldn’t have moved out. You weren’t ready.”

“I never had an eating disorder.”

“What do you call what you did in high school then? And why does your friend look like she hasn’t eaten in months?”

“A diet.” I wasn’t trying to kill myself by losing weight.

“That was not a diet. That was you trying to lose weight to shrink your chest. By the time you were done, you looked like a stick.” My mother’s haunted eyes stare at Imogene, but she’s seeing me.

“Mom, Imogene doesn’t have an eating disorder. And I didn’t have one either.”

“You don’t?”

“No. I love food!” Imogene barely manages to force a comforting smile. “I just… didn’t have access to food for a while.”

There’s no way Imogene wants to have that conversation with my mother, nor do I. “Imogene was homeless.” Which is actually sort of the truth.

“Oh. Oh. Well then, let’s get you something more substantial than cookies and tea.”

Which is hysterical, because Mom lives on cookies and tea.

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