Half an hour later, I’m pounding up the front steps to my childhood home and throwing open the screen door. I twist the doorknob and push on the wooden door behind it, expecting it to fall open with its familiar creak, but I bump against it when it fails to open. Tears start to slide down my cheeks again as I suddenly realize that it’s locked. Of course it is - we always lock the door in this neighborhood – and I don’t have my keys because they’re sitting in my old purse, which is back at Kent’s house.
I lean against the door with a heavy sigh, closing my eyes and letting myself cry more. It’s all just too much –
Suddenly, I fall inwards as the door opens.
“Who…” Janeen says, and then gives a little gasp as I stumble into the house. “Fay!” she cries, her hands immediately on my arms,
