Under Their Skin Read Free Page A

most of the talking no matter who’d had the kids last.
    Nick flopped down on the couch and picked up a video controller. This was his Sunday night routine: He was allowed to play video games for as long as Mom and Dad were in Mom’s office.
    Eryn inched closer to Mom’s office door.
    â€œGive it up,” Nick said, his eyes glued to the TV screen. “They have to know you might eavesdrop. They’re not going to say anything about those kids. Or anything else important.”
    â€œThen why don’t they just talk in front of us?” Eryn asked.
    â€œDivorced parents need to meet regularly in an environment where they can express their thoughts and emotions freely, with no fear of those thoughts and emotions damaging their children’s psyches,” Nick said in an airy, how could you not know this? tone. Eryn couldn’t tell if he was quoting Mom exactly or just pretending to.
    â€œAt least I’m trying something ,” Eryn retorted.
    â€œHey, I’m saving a frog from death-by-delivery-truck,” Nick said, as the familiar ga-lumph, ga-lumph of his favorite video game started up.
    Eryn put her ear against the office door. Nothing.
    â€œI read somewhere that it helps to put a glass up against a wall,” Nick said. “Something about concentrating the sound waves.”
    â€œWhy don’t we both try?” Eryn suggested.
    Nick didn’t move anything except a finger on the video game controller.
    â€œThey would know something was up if they came out of the office and I wasn’t sitting in front of the TV,” he said.
    He had a point. Eryn went into the kitchen and pulled a glass from the cupboard. She came back into the living room and put the open end of the glass against the wall, then her ear against the base of the glass.
    â€œ. . . so then Nick has lacrosse practice after school on Tuesday while Eryn has art club,” Mom was saying on the other side of the wall. It sounded a little bit like she was talking underwater, but Eryn could still make out the words.
    â€œIt works!” Eryn mostly mouthed/sort of whispered to Nick.
    She didn’t tell him that it seemed like he was right, and Mom and Dad weren’t saying anything interesting. Nick always had lacrosse practice the same time as her art club. And she always had tennis practice on Thursdays while he had trumpet lessons. And on Fridays she had piano lessons while he worked on stage crew for the school play.
    Wonder what activities Ava and Jackson are in? she thought.
    Did it matter? Would that explain who they really were? Were they even old enough to be involved in school activities? Were they even old enough to be in school?
    Mom’s voice was droning on in the office.
    â€œWednesday is the field trip to the science museum for both kids, and . . .”
    Eryn was just about ready to slide the glass away from the wall so she didn’t get caught. Then she heard Dad say, “Don’t you think we’ve been boring long enough, and anyone who might be listening has given up?”
    They expected me to listen? Eryn wondered.
    Then she heard Dad’s next words: “Is the plan working so far?”
    â€œAs far as we can tell,” Mom said.
    Plan? Eryn thought. What plan?
    Maybe Mom was just talking about the wedding plans—or the elopement plans—but Dad made it sound like a plan he was involved with too.
    â€œDon’t take too many risks,” Dad said.
    Mom gave a shaky laugh.
    â€œIsn’t everything about this risky?” she said. “But—worth the risks?”
    Would Mom talk that way about getting remarried? Would she talk that way to Dad about her marriage to Michael ?
    â€œJust . . . don’t do anything to endanger Eryn and Nick,” Dad said in a grim voice that was nothing like his usual light, joking tone.
    â€œYou know I never would,” Mom said. She paused. “But don’t you know we