How It Ends Read Online Free PDF

him my sketchbook so he knows how serious I am. My school sketchbook, that is. Not the one I keep under my bed titled
101 Ways to Make Madge Disappear.
    I manage to choke down two whole bites of dinner before realizing that I’ll never last till dessert. My heart is pounding and my knee is bouncing and everything tastes like cardboard. I run my fingers over the list perched on my lap right before I explode.
    â€œI need new art supplies for a project, and I made a list!” I practically shout, waving the page like I’m performing a magic trick. Everyone jumps in surprise, and Sophie looks at me like I’ve sprouted another head.
    My dad recovers first. “Art supplies? For school?”
    â€œYeah,” I say, feeling my cheeks go hot. “We have this big independent study project where we have to make an artistic statement using different media.”
    â€œWell, now,” Dad says, sitting back in his chair and looking at me closely. “It’s good to see you excited about something again.” My heart throbs. Dad’s always rushing from one thing to the next. I can’t remember the last time he stopped and gave me his full attention.
    All the hard edges around my father disappear for a moment, and he suddenly looks just the way I remember from when I was a little kid. Before Mom died. Before Madge. There’s a warmth in his eyes that I haven’t seen in forever. I want to race to my room and grab my sketchbook to capture him just like this.
    â€œA portfolio,” he says wistfully. “You sound just like your mother right now.”
    Dad hardly ever mentions Mom anymore, and never around Madge. I think on some level, he knows that hearing about my mom is too much for her. It’s not like my parents got divorced or broke up or anything. Mom died. And a piece of him died with her. This happiness Madge fights so hard to protect is a pale shadow of the happiness he used to know.
    I beam at him and then, without even meaning to, sneak a look at Madge. All the color has drained from her face. My heart skips a beat, and I have a confusing moment of pity for her before my anger flares up.
I should be able to talk about my mom in my own house.
    My dad obviously notices her too. “You know, Madeleine is quite creative, just like you, Annie,” he says.
    I raise my eyebrows and fight the impulse to laugh out loud. Madge is the opposite of creative. The first thing she did when she moved in with us was take down all my mother’s paintings and replace them with hokey prints of kittens and sunsets.
    â€œI know nothing about the art world,” my dad goes on, turning to Madge. “You’d be the perfect person to take Annie shopping and help her pick out supplies.”
    â€œOh, I don’t think Annie would be interested in that,” Madge sniffs. “We already discussed this earlier, but apparently she didn’t like the plan
I
proposed.”
    My dad looks back and forth between us, his brow furrowed. “Plan?”
    â€œI
told
Annie that if she went through the boxes of supplies downstairs and made a list of things we don’t already own, then I’d take her shopping for what she needs.”
    I gape at her. “Um . . . no, you did not!”
    â€œPardon me?” she says. “Did I not tell you specifically to check the supplies downstairs?”
    â€œYes, but you
never
said you’d take me shopping. You said I should use whatever leftovers were down there.”
    Madge sighs and gives my father a pointed look. “This is exactly what I’ve been talking about, Martin. I’m just trying to put some basic rules in place, but she has no respect for my authority. When she doesn’t like what I have to say, she just runs to you for a different answer.”
    Dad rubs his hands over his face. “All right. Annie, I didn’t realize you already had an arrangement with Madeleine.”
    â€œShe’s lying!