Chapter 2

"Peyton, what are you trying to say?"

Vivian laughed first. A light laugh.

She released Ethan's arm, her fingertip pressed against the rim of her glass, her voice soft.

"Today's a family dinner. Don't lose control of your emotions again."

Linda immediately chimed in. "That's right, Peyton. Vivian just brought her boyfriend home. What are you freaking out about?"

My dad, Harold, put down his fork. "Peyton, sit down."

I didn't sit.

I placed my phone on the turntable, screen lit, stopped on a screenshot.

"I'm not freaking out. I'm asking a question."

Ethan's expression changed.

He was my sixth blind date. Three months ago he'd been asking if I wanted to catch a movie that weekend. The next day he said we weren't compatible.

Now he stood among my relatives wearing a light gray shirt Vivian had picked out for him.

Vivian glanced at the phone but didn't touch it.

"Peyton, did someone turn you against me again?"

"Are the screenshots fake?"

"These days they can deepfake videos. What's a chat screenshot?"

"What about seven of them?"

I opened my photo album and pulled up each of the seven screenshots one by one.

"Seven people. Seven accounts. Seven times the exact same sentence. Even the punctuation's identical."

My aunt, Catherine, muttered quietly, "Kids these days really know how to stir up drama."

Linda glared at me. "Even if Vivian said those things, she was just worried about them. That time you were hospitalized—who in this family doesn't know about it?"

My fingers froze.

Around the table, some people looked down into their soup, some picked at their food, some pretended not to hear.

My mom, Sandra, went pale. She reached for me. "Peyton, stop talking."

Vivian's eyes welled up instantly.

"Peyton, I really didn't mean any harm."

After she spoke, tears fell.

"I was just afraid they'd blame you later if they found out, and afraid you'd get hurt. Every time you came back from a date you said the guy was nice, but are you really suitable for marriage?"

Ethan immediately supported her. "Vivian, don't cry."

I looked at him.

I remembered on our first date, he'd complimented my sincerity.

Now he was frowning at me.

"Peyton, Vivian's just looking out for you."

"Looking out for me?"

I smiled slightly.

"She added you on Snapchat, told you I have a history of mental illness, then chatted with you until three in the morning—that was looking out for me too?"

His face stiffened. "Don't make things up."

Vivian wiped her tears. "Ethan was just asking about your situation. I told him the truth."

"And you just happened to turn him into your boyfriend while you were at it?"

Linda slammed the table. "Peyton, how can you be so vicious? Your cousin has always given in to you, and you still try to steal her spotlight?"

Harold's face darkened. "Apologize."

I looked at him. "Dad, didn't you see her telling people I'm mentally ill?"

"You did go to the hospital when you were little."

"That was because I had insomnia after being bullied by classmates. The doctor prescribed two weeks of sleep medication."

"To outsiders it all looks the same."

I stood frozen in place.

Vivian said through her sobs, "Harold, don't blame Peyton. She probably just can't accept that Ethan and I are together."

Ethan squeezed her hand.

"Peyton, feelings aren't first-come-first-served. Just because things didn't work out between us doesn't mean I can't like Vivian."

I said, "Of course you can."

The table collectively exhaled.

I continued. "But before you two date, let's settle the accounts for her slandering me."

Vivian suddenly looked up.

In those eyes there was no trace of tearful softness, only a flash of coldness.

Quickly, she lowered her gaze again.

"Peyton, if you insist on forcing me, then I can only tell the truth."

Sandra panicked. "Vivian!"

Linda immediately pressed. "What truth?"

Vivian bit her lip.

"She cut her wrists in college."

The sound of a fork hitting the floor rang out loudly.

I heard myself say, "I didn't."

Vivian shook her head, crying. "Stop denying it. That year I came to see you at your dorm, I saw the gauze wrapped around your wrist with my own eyes."

I pulled up my sleeve.

The very faint scar on my wrist was exposed.

Linda gasped. "Oh my, it's real."

Sandra's eyes reddened. "That was from a fruit knife."

"A fruit knife could do that?"

Vivian's voice grew softer.

"Peyton, I've been covering for you this whole time, but since you insisted on making a scene today, I have no choice."

Ethan's eyes as he looked at me completely changed.

"Peyton, what you need isn't blind dates. It's treatment."

In that moment, all the screenshots lost their weight.

They couldn't see the evidence. They only saw the scar on my wrist.

Harold stood up, his voice very low. "Apologize to your cousin, then go to your room."

I asked, "What if I don't?"

He looked at me, saying something this serious in front of relatives for the first time.

"Then from now on, you don't need to come to the family table anymore."

Vivian called out softly, "Harold, don't do this. Peyton didn't mean it."

Harold didn't look at her, only at me.

"Apologize."

I picked up my phone. When I pressed the screen dark, it reflected my face.

Turns out when someone's trampled all the way down, they don't immediately break down. They just suddenly become very clearheaded.

I put my wine glass back on the table.

"Vivian, I'm sorry."

Tears still hung at the corners of Vivian's eyes, but her lips curved up slightly.

I stared at her, my voice not loud.

"I'm sorry. I underestimated you."

Her expression paused.

Harold shouted angrily, "Peyton!"

I turned and walked out. Behind me came Linda's voice.

"This child is truly beyond saving."

At the door, Ethan came after me.

"Peyton, Vivian asked me to see you out."

I stopped.

He frowned. "Stop targeting her. She's kinder than you, and more normal than you."

I looked at him.

"Ethan, do you feel especially righteous right now?"

He said, "At least I won't hurt someone who genuinely cares about you."

I nodded.

"Fine. Then pass along a message for me."

"What message?"

I tucked my phone back in my bag and pushed open the door.

"Tell her she'd better not lose the eighth one too."