* * *
That was it? I had no idea to what the letter referred. I rushed to open the next one.
* * *
Dear Diary,
I had a talk with my therapist today. He wants to admit me for a little while, until I sort some things out in my head. I declined, but I’m starting to think that he might be right. I might need some inpatient time in the hospital. I don’t know how to tell Mason about it.
* * *
I set that letter to the side and tore open the last one.
* * *
Dear Diary,
I was late. Now I’m really late. And now there are two pink lines.
* * *
Two pink lines? What the hell did that mean? I picked up the phone. I could call my mother and see if it was girl code for something I didn’t know about. But I didn’t. I called Malcolm. He answered on the first ring.
“Is she home yet?” he asked.
“Not yet. Hey, can you do me a favor?”
“Anything. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Ask Aubrey what two pink lines means.”
Silence.
“Mal?” I prompted.
He cleared his throat. “Dude,” was all he said.
“What? Is Aubrey there?”
“Hang on,” he said. I heard him talking to her, and then Aubrey answered.
“Mason?” she said.
“Aubrey, what does it mean when someone says there were two pink lines?”
Silence again.
“Aubrey!” I shouted.
“Who said it, and in what context?” Aubrey asked.
“Lynn, and I don’t know the context.” But I’m pretty sure it’s why she left.
“Well…” Aubrey cleared her throat. “Maybe you should talk to Lynn about this, Mason.”
“She’s not here!” I cried. “She’s fucking gone, Aubrey, and this is the first clue I’ve gotten. What does it mean?”
I heard a muffled, “Here, Mal. You talk to him. I can’t.”