Page 69 (2/2)

I drop my purse at my feet as I stare intensely at her face fro outside and I haven’t even closed the front door yet, so I’ ht now as I stare at Janean as she stares at Mother Teresa

One of Janean’s ar off the couch, her fingers resting gently against worn carpet She’s a little swollen and it e—she’s only thirty-nine—but younger than what her addictions have htly less concave and the wrinkles that have formed around her mouth over the last few years look as if they’ve been smoothed out by Botox

“Janean?”

Nothing

Heryellow slivers of chipped and rotted teeth It’s like she was in the middle of a sentence when the life slipped out of her

I’ve iined this h, you can’t help but lie awake in bed at night, wondering what life would be like if that person were dead

I iined it would be much more dramatic

I stare at Janean for anotherto see if she’s just in some kind of trance I take a few steps toward her and then pause when I see her ar from the skin just underneath the inside of her elbow

As soon as I see it, the reality of the moment slips over me like a slimy film and it makes me nauseous I spin around and run out of the house It feels like I’, careful not to put too rip

I’ to worry abouthter should be in this

I wipe my mouth on the sleeve of my McDonald’s work shirt I sit down on the steps, despite the rain still puht sky

My hair andwet So isdown my cheeks is tears

It’s all raindrops

Wet eyes and a dry heart

I closeto decide ifor if I was born broken