I sat on my bed, finishing up my online English homework and opening up my drivers education class. Lan had texted me a couple of times about how excited she was for her date with Alan, from the ice-skating rink. It made me happy knowing how much Lan deserved to be with a handsome guy who would take her out and spoil her.

My mind wandered after my third online driving quiz, and my gaze drifted to the window where I saw Wendell standing on his front porch wearing a thick winter coat as he petted Olivander. It was fifty degrees outside, but he was probably keeping warm enough with the sun directly on him.

Courtney was working the afternoon shift, so it was the opportune time to talk to Wendell. I shut my laptop and went downstairs—putting on my winter coat, gloves, and hat. I carefully walked down the snow-compacted steps on our porch, over to the fence between our houses, and waved.

"Hi, Wendell," I said.

He turned and waved back. When I was younger, we had conversations when I took my bike out, but that changed when I got into high school. I started walking to Lan's or staying inside more, and I didn't talk to him anymore.

"Well, hi, Deja." He grinned. The bobble on the top of his hat moved back and forth.

I rested my arms on the fence. "How's Olivander?"

He chuckled and scratched him behind the ears. Olivander pushed his furry head into Wendell's fingertips. "Oh, he's doing well."

"That's good. Mind if I come over and chat like old times?" I reached down to undo the latch on the gate.

He smiled with a gleam in his eye. "Sure. Come on over." We talked on his porch about how I was doing in school, how old I was now, and what I might do when I graduated. Finally, I got up the nerve to ask questions about Courtney.

I pushed my bangs out of my eyes. "So, how long have you known my mom?"

His smile faltered, and he became serious. "Well, your mom moved into the neighborhood when she was a teenager. Your grandmother lived here, too. She was nice. That was about thirty years ago. Your mom and I were in the same graduating class."

This was surprising. Courtney had never mentioned Wendell in high school. She was private about everything in her past. "What was she like?"

He paused, which led me to believe she was probably a real bitch. "Oh, you know, she was... smart." He swallowed nervously and stroked Olivander.

Yep. She was a bitch. "Did she date?"

"Well, she was real pretty. I know she did date, but she didn't get serious until after high school when she married Gerry..." he hesitated and then added, "your dad."

I raised my eyebrows and slowly nodded. So, Gerald was my dad, or at least that's what Wendell believed. "So, Wendell, I know this might be an awkward subject for both of us, but I'm trying to fill in some gaps in my childhood from when I was too young to remember. Please don't mention to my mom that I asked, okay?"

His eyes darted left and right, like he was worried what I might ask.

"Do you know why they split up?"

His eyes dropped back to Olivander. "No, but after they married Gerry moved out before you were born."

My eyebrows drew together. This was news to me. "Did he know about me?"

"I assume so."

"Was he devastated when my sister died?"

The crease between his eyes deepened. "What sister?"

"You know—the one that died before I came along."

Confusion clouded his eyes. "I didn't know there was a sister."

Even though my sister was only a week old when she passed away in intensive care, I was surprised Wendell hadn't known about her. He didn't talk to Courtney much, but he would have seen her pregnant when she came and went.

"Your grandmother was still there after he left, but she had an accident soon after you came along—fell down the stairs. She passed away."

Something tugged in my chest. "That's weird. Mom never mentioned that."

Wendell shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

"Were there any other men she dated after Gerald—umm, Gerry left the picture?" I asked.

He drew a slow breath. "Not that I recall."

I nodded. So unless Courtney had a one night stand, Gerald was my only lead to a father. "Do you have any idea what happened to him?"

His eyes fixated on Olivander, who indulged in getting petted. "I think you ought to ask your mother that one. I don't really know anything."

"No, please—Wendell—she won't tell me anything about my dad. I don't know who he is or where to find him. She's a closed book." I begged him with my eyes.

He let out a breath. "Well, he did leave to join the military—the Air Force."

I clasped my hands together. That information might help narrow down the search. "Thank you, Wendell."

Just then a rabbit scampered from behind a tree and headed down the block behind some bushes. Olivander's ears perked up, and he struggled to get loose from under Wendell's arm, wiggling, and his feet moving in mid-air. "Olivander, settle down." Olivander didn't listen. He freed himself, scratching Wendell's hand in the process, and bounding over the fence. Wendell recoiled—gritting his teeth. A bit of blood pooled in the creases of his hand, and he cradled it.

"It's good seeing you Deja," he said. "I have some work I need to attend to. Take care of yourself."

"You too." I felt sorry for Wendell. He was lonely, but at least he had Olivander to keep him company, even if he was a demon cat.

He went inside his house, and I returned to working on Courtney's laptop upstairs on my bed. I couldn't concentrate on driver's ed after our conversation, so I started putting Gerald's name into the search bar. Several profiles were found on Facebook. I clicked on the link, but I couldn't see profiles unless I started an account. I began the process. Did I want to use my real name and photo? What if Gerald knew about me but didn't want anything to do with me? Maybe he didn't know I existed, or what if he knew but didn't know how to find me? I decided to open an account with my real name but the profile picture was a stock photo of daffodils from the internet.

I began searching each profile of the men with the name Gerald Gardner. There were dozens. I tried comparing their faces to the vintage photo. After a lot of cyber stalking, I realized none could be him. They were either too young, too old, or not the right race. I remembered Wendell had called him Gerry. I edited my search criteria and narrowed down the selection to twelve. I ruled out a few and sent out nine friend requests. I jumped when I heard the garage door go up and shut the laptop before I went downstairs.

Courtney came in with a smile. Phew. She was in a good mood. "Hi, Hon. How was school?"

"Fine." I rocked on my heels.

She looked at the kitchen. "You haven't had time to cook?"

I shook my head.

She smiled. "That's ok. I'm in the mood for Vietnamese."

I smiled back. "Yessss."

She put her purse on the couch. "I'm going to shower and change out of my scrubs—then we'll go."

"Okay." I waited for her—listening to the water run.

Shortly thereafter, we were in the car, backing out of the garage. The sun had receded behind the houses, and it was dark outside. I glanced at the messages on my phone and checked the latest meme Lan had sent me when we heard a screech as we backed over something—causing the back passenger side to rise up and fall down. Courtney hit the brake. We stared at each other with wide eyes.

"What was that?" Courtney asked.

"I don't know. I'll check." I got out and turned to see Olivander squashed from the back tire rolling over him. My blood ran cold in my veins. I covered my mouth. His yellow eyes stared up at me, and his mouth was wide open with sharp teeth showing. "MOM!"

She came running around the car, and when she saw the bloody sight she placed her hands on her hips. "Huh. How ironic."

I was revolted. How would Wendell react when he found out we killed his beloved cat? I wished I would have been nicer to Olivander. I could have left treats for him. For some reason, he liked sitting in our driveway. Maybe we should have checked for him before we pulled out. Yes, I was certain his death had been our fault due to our negligence.

Courtney wasn't even fazed. She pinched her chin and squinted.

My heart ached as I thought of Wendell's grief. I put my hands up to my mouth, my pulse drummed in my ears.

"I'll get Wendell." I turned toward his house.

She grabbed my arm. "No! Stay right here."

I assumed she wanted to be the one to break the news to him, but I was wrong. She ambled into the garage, pulled out the dustpan, rolled our garbage can out of the garage, and pulled it up beside the car. She kneeled down beside him with the dust pan. "Open the trash can lid."

"Mom!" I objected. How could she run over Wendell's cat and try to cover it up? It wasn't right.

Her eyes set me on fire. I wilted inside. "Do it!"

I reluctantly pulled the lid off and watched as Courtney scraped Olivander off the driveway. His ribs were crushed to the pavement, but they came free, leaving a red stain in the snowy driveway. She tossed him into the trash. I put the lid on, and she rolled it to the end of the driveway. "Trash day is tomorrow."

She said it like she was proud of herself. Like it was of no consequence. Just last weekend she had threatened to kill Wendell's cat, and now she had—even if it was only by accident.

"C'mon, let's go," she said, getting back in the car.

I stood there, still shaken. I hated the cat, but I didn't wish this on him, and now I was guilty by association.

"I'm not hungry," I said.

She angled her head to see me from the driver's seat. "Deja, stop being a baby and get in the car."

I didn't move.

"DEJA!"

I decided it wasn't worth the battle. Olivander was dead, and nothing I could do would change that. I got in, and we backed into the street and headed to Lan's parents' restaurant.

The only glimpse I caught of Lan was when we were sitting in the booth ordering our meal. I saw her car pull up to the curb, her mom brought takeout food to her car, and Lan drove away to make deliveries.

I wasn't hungry with the image of Olivander haunting my mind, but I pretended everything was okay. I ordered the soup so Courtney wouldn't be mad, and Courtney laughed with the waitress. She ordered soup, salad, spring rolls, and Bun Thit Nuong. I stirred the soup while she ate everything in front of her like nothing had happened.