into one corner of the living
room, is noticeably bare.
I can’t not ask, “What, did
someone steal the ornaments?”
Tanya giggles (and I’m starting
the hate the grate of her laugh).
Oh, no. I’ve just been so busy
we haven’t put them up yet.
Maybe we’ll do that tonight.
Sorry I brought it up. The last
thing I want to do is hang gaudy
crap on a fake evergreen and
pretend like I’m part of a fake
family. Fake. Fake. Fake.
I pad along the fuchsia shag,
thinking about the tatters
of my real family. Dad in jail.
Kortni, happy not to have me
there. Mom. Mom. Where is she?
A RIPTIDE OF SADNESS
Pulls at me, but I will not cry.
Must not show weakness as
I meet my new fake sisters.
This is your room, Tanya says.
It is not much bigger than a closet.
Take that bed over there.
She points to a small twin under
the window. The matching bed against
the wall is currently unoccupied.
Tanya gestures toward it. You’ll