Some of the air is coming back into the fire. I know that Dad didn’t tell people because I asked him not to, and I get that now it’s kind of weird for him, but not compared to what it’s like for me, I say. Flames start up. Then Mom blows away all the air again: “Simon, have you told Agate?” Oh, man. Agate. I shake my head and drop my chin. My mom puts her hand on the back of my neck. My dad wraps his big musical hand around my arm. The shock waves just keep rattling through me.
