Silent to the Bone by E.L. Konigsburg

into the drawer for a serving spoon and told us to help ourselves.
    At dinner we talked about Vivian’s plans. She said that as soon as she finished giving her deposition she would be returning to England. “In a way, I am living on standby. If Nikki dies, I’ll have to return to the States for the trial.”
    â€œWell, let’s hope that won’t happen.”
    â€œOf course, we all pray that won’t happen. The Zamborskas were pleasant enough, and I enjoyed being here, but this whole assignment has certainly mucked up my plans.” Brits must say mucked up instead of messed up.
    â€œWhat plans are those?” Margaret asked.
    â€œAll of them, actually. I am truly anxious to get on with my life.”
    Margaret said, “I think I’ve heard everyone from the Masssachusetts Nanny to the Long Island Lolita say that. What exactly does ‘getting on with your life’ mean?”
    â€œIn my case, it means going to university.”
    â€œAnd study what?”
    â€œThe law. I hope to become a barrister.”
    â€œThat would be nice. I think you will look darling in a peruke.”
    â€œDo you really?”
    â€œYes, I do.”
    â€œI understand they’re quite expensive.”
    â€œLet me make this promise, Vivian. If you become a barrister, I shall buy you your peruke.”
    I didn’t know what a peruke was, and I didn’t want to ask. If it was spelled anything like it sounded, I could look it up or ask Branwell. (That was about the gazillionth time I had to remind myself that he had gone silent. But maybe peruke would be the icebreaker that would get him to talk.)
    Vivian had another cigarette with her coffee. I volunteered to light it for her. She held my wrist again. Same wrist. Same place. And then before I pulled my wrist away, she smiled shyly and lip-synced, “Thank you, Connor.”
    Thursday has always been my lucky day.
----
    Margaret dropped Vivian back at the hotel before she drove me home.
    I asked her, “Why did you tell Vivian that you had changed your silverware drawers around? It’s been in the same place ever since you’ve lived here.”
    â€œI lied.”
    â€œWhy?”
    Margaret shrugged. “I felt like it.”
    â€œIs that all you’re going to say?”
    â€œFor the time being.”
    â€œWhat is a peruke?” I asked.
    â€œOne of those white wigs that British barristers plop on top of their heads when they are trying a case.”
    â€œIs that named after Mr. Peruke who invented it?”
    â€œI don’t think so.”
    â€œWhy did you promise Vivian that you would buy her one?”
    â€œI stand about as much chance of having to keep that promise as you have of waking up tomorrow speaking Farsi.”
    â€œWhy don’t you like her?”
    â€œI don’t have to. You like her enough for both of us.”
    â€œWhy did you invite her over for dinner if you don’t like her.”
    â€œI felt like it.”
    â€œWell, I think she’s nice.”
    â€œI noticed.”
----
    The first time I saw Branwell at the Behavioral Center, I had said to myself that even before I knew all the details, I believed in him. And I still did. But after having had supper with Vivian, and having learned more of the details, I had some new thoughts about Branwell, and I wondered if the Branwell I thought I knew was the Branwell I knew.
    My mind was as mixed-up as that sentence.
    I also had some new thoughts about Vivian. And about Branwell with Vivian.
    And when I awakened the next morning my thoughts were not about Branwell and Vivian but about Vivian and me. Vivian with me. She had invaded my dreams that night, and those dreams were different from any of the other dreams I had ever dreamed up until I lit that first cigarette and felt Vivian’s hand holding my wrist. And she held my wrist in the same place each time and thanked me.

10.
    Margaret came to school and brought me a