Fallout (Crank 3)

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