Page 234 of Josephine and Clay

The shears stop.

Mom slowly lowers them. "I know."

I blink. "What?"

She gives me a look. "Clay."

Right.

Small town. Family. Women who communicate at supernatural speeds. Forgot about that.

A smile touches her mouth. "Twins."

I groan. "Everybody knows everything."

Mom lets out a laugh and shakes her head. Then she reaches over and squeezes my hand. The gesture catches me off guard. "I'm happy for you."

I hadn't realized how badly I needed to hear that until she said it. Because for months I've been convinced everybody expected me to fail.

Maybe part of me still believes it.

Mom studies my face. "You're scared."

"Very."

"Good."

I frown. "That's becoming a weirdly common response."

"It means you're taking it seriously." She goes back to trimming roses. "The money wasn't what you thought."

My stomach immediately tightens.

There it is. The conversation I've been avoiding.

I stand before she can continue.

Mom sighs. "Clay."

"Not today."

"Your father⁠—"

"I said not today."

The words hang there. Regret arrives before either of us speaks again.

Mom sets the shears down. "I'm not trying to fight with you."

I rub the back of my neck. "I know."

"Then stop running from it."

The irony almost makes me laugh.

Instead, I kiss her cheek. "I'll talk about it later."

Mom gives me a look that says she knows exactly what I'm doing.