Dead to You Read Online Free PDF

if you want to, just go on in—but we understand if you need some alone time. I left you some lunch up here . . . it’s your favorite sandwich.” She pauses. “Maybe later you and Gracie and I can go shopping, get you some clothes and toiletries and things of your own before Grandpa and Grandma come over. I’m locking the doors, so don’t, you know . . . don’t go anywhere. Don’t let anybody in.” She laughs anxiously, like she knows how paranoid that sounds, but keeps going. “Just stay inside while I’m gone, okay?”
    She doesn’t wait for me to answer; she just goes. I like that. Maybe she’s not too pissed at me for ruining the taping after all.
    A while later I go upstairs and sit at the table, where there’s a sandwich wrapped in plastic on a plate. I unwrap the sandwich and stare at it, open it up carefully. Bologna and smashed potato chips between two pieces of buttered white bread. “This is my favorite?” I mutter, and then I take a bite. It’s not half bad. I get up and grab a soda from the fridge, and then I feel weird, like maybe there’s a rule about soda at lunchtime like at the group home, so I put it back and drink water instead.
    The phone rings three times while Mama is gone. I don’t answer it, but once I hear Dad talking from the den.
    Mama and Gracie come home just as I finish eating. “Thanks for the sandwich,” I say sheepishly as Mama gets the bread and bologna out again, this time for Gracie.
    “Of course! How are you feeling?” When Mama finishes making Gracie’s sandwich, Gracie presses it flat with her hand so that the chips crunch.
    “Fine.” I watch Gracie eating. She’s like a flamingo, all pink and poised. “Didn’t you already have lunch?” I ask, pointing to her lunch box, picking up the game again.
    “Mama,” she says coolly, looking straight at me. “Efan is trying to get into my private property.”
    “Now, Gracie. Be nice. He’s just curious,” Mama says, phone to her ear and distracted as she’s trying to listen to the voice mails.
    I flash Gracie a triumphant look.
    She scowls and takes her lunch box to her bedroom.
    With Gracie gone, Mama comes over to me and hugs me. Holds me tight and whispers, “I’m sorry about the TV thing.”
    “Me too. It was my fault.”
    “Not a chance. You’re perfect.” She doesn’t let go. Just asks, still whispering, “So . . . that woman Eleanor didn’t hurt you?” She can hardly get the words out before she’s crying again.
    “No, Mama,” I say. “No. She didn’t hurt me. She just wanted a kid.” I want to tell her how it really was with Ellen. I want to. But I can’t hurt Mama like that, and I need to stop thinking about it now so I can focus on remembering. I just pat her back and let her cry it out.
    We go to the mall. Mama asks what styles I like, and I don’t know the answer.
    “You’re supposed to wear your jeans so your butt hangs out,” Gracie says when Mama goes off to find more shirts.
    I laugh. “Then my butt gets cold. I’m tired of being cold.”
    “Why did you live outside, then? How come I never seen you before if you’re my brother?”
    I look at Gracie in one of the mirrors. “I went away. A long time ago, before you were born. I lived somewhere else. And then that person couldn’t take care of me anymore so she dropped me off at a bad place. And I ran away and lived on the streets until I found you. I even lived at the zoo for a while.”
    “Ha-ha, the zoo!” Gracie says. She ponders it for a while. “I would have runned away too.”
    I nod. “Of course you would have. Because you’re smart like me.”
    She laughs. “I’m smarter than you.”
    “Oh, really?”
    “Yeah.”
    “How?”
    “I wouldn’t have gone away from Mama in the first place. Why’d you do that?”
    I’m grateful to see Mama coming back with more stuff. “I dunno why, kid,” I say to Gracie. “Maybe you can teach me how to be smarter.” My sarcasm is lost on her.
    When we get home, Dad is