Free The Secret Sea by Barry Lyga

jaw trembling. “For a little while.”
    Zak was uncomfortable in his mother’s awkward embrace; he pushed her off him. “But then Tommy died. And you just pretended he never existed.”
    And then it was like Zak could rewind his life and watch it again, only this time through a different camera angle. His sixth birthday party, when he’d turned a corner at the restaurant and seen La-La sobbing in Mom’s arms for no apparent reason. His mother’s seemingly bizarre, overwrought annoyance at every mention of his imaginary friend. The way his father would turn and gaze lingeringly at dual baby carriages on the street.
    You’re all I—we—I have left , Mom had said to him.
    Have left.
    Left.
    All that remained. Zak was what was left after Tommy died. Everyone knew and everyone mourned.
    Everyone in his life had missed Tommy. Except for his own twin. Because they’d lied.
    Lied, like Tommy had promised.
    Zak had spent his life thinking he was alone. And then he wasn’t.
    And then he was.
    Don’t trust him , the voice had said.
    More like “don’t trust them. ”
    Mindful of the tubes and wires attached to him, he folded his arms over his chest, wishing he could make himself disappear. He wanted to be away from his parents, probably forever. Never to see them again. He’d thought he’d been angry at them in the past, when they’d punished him or denied him something, but that was kiddie anger. This—this emotion he was feeling now—he knew that this was adult anger.
    â€œYou’ve been lying to me. My whole life.”
    â€œWe thought—”
    â€œMichael.” It was Dr. Campbell. Zak had been so wrapped up in his outrage that he’d forgotten about her. She said his father’s name again and came over to the bed. “Let me handle this part.
    â€œI’ve known you much longer than the past week,” she told Zak. “Your parents brought you to me soon after Tommy died. They wanted to know how it would affect you, what it would do to you.” She shook her head and opened her mouth to continue speaking, but she couldn’t. Rummaging in her purse, she produced a tissue and dabbed at her eyes.
    â€œI owe you an apology, too. God, Zak, I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I told them … I told them that you probably wouldn’t remember Tommy at all. That your memories of him would fade. Clearly, I was wrong. You’ve been remembering him, and it took the form of your imaginary friend, your sleepwalking … and then you learned about him the worst way possible.”
    â€œWe really were going to tell you,” Dad said in the least convincing tone ever. “When you were older.”
    â€œHow old do you have to be to know about your dead twin brother?” Zak asked with an acidity he’d never dared before with his parents.
    â€œWe were worried about your heart,” Mom whispered. “About something exactly like this —”
    â€œI deserved to know!” Zak shouted, and the heart monitor beeped and pinged warningly. The three adults all hissed in a panicked breath, and Zak felt a surge of warm power at the thought of the terror he’d just instilled in them. “I deserved to know. You let me go around thinking I just came up with the name Tommy on my own, letting me think he was just my imaginary friend. And you all got to keep this secret to yourselves and never bothered to tell me the most important thing in my life .”
    â€œI understand you’re angry—” his dad began.
    Zak shook his father’s hand off his shoulder. “Angry? Are you kidding me? You’ve been lying to me my whole life, and you think you can just say you’re sorry and it’s okay?”
    When he was younger, Zak had accidentally spilled purple Kool-Aid on his mother’s favorite skirt. He’d apologized lavishly and profusely, but she’d remained