CHAPTER 5
I chuck my keys onto the kitchen table and march straight through the living room on the way to bed. I hardly register that Mom sits front-and-center on the living room couch, a pile of ghoul robe patterns beside her.
“You’re back early.” She pats the empty spot beside her on the couch, but I’m in no mood for a mother-daughter bonding session.
I stop and pretend that it’s really important to smooth out the folds of my neon orange dress. “It was time to go.”
“Was everyone wearing hoop skirts?” Mom eyes the hem of my gown. “In five minutes, I can sew that hoop back in for you.”
“No one was wearing hoop skirts, Mom.”
She leans forward on the couch. “What happened, Myla-la?”
I launch into a rare sharing session with my mother. This thing with Lincoln was just too strange. I re
