CHAPTER 5
I’m still crying, but not quite as hysterically. Dad’s changed my coffee out for a mug of tea, and we’re sitting in the living room now. I look around me, and I recognize everything. I know everything. The bookshelves lined with Mom’s mysteries and thrillers, the hundreds of worn paperbacks she’s picked up from library sales and thrift stores. The mantle with a few of my gymnastics trophies from days gone by. My brother Marco’s wrestling medal from back when he was in high school.
I know this room, this house. Nothing has changed, but everything is different. Dad sees me shivering and goes into my room, bringing out the same pink bedspread I’ve slept with for years. He tucks it around me like Mom used to do when I stayed home sick from school, watching TV all day on this exact
