Liberty never made a big deal out of Naomi’s silence when it came to her family. He didn’t entertain his curiosity when he noticed that there was not a single family picture in her home. Hell, she loves hanging pictures on the wall. The faded cream, pinkish slabs of concrete making up Naomi’s apartment foundation are filled with faces of the familiar bob-cut and curly-haired girls. The class organization she’s in. her favourite teachers. Her favourite humans.
All the people flashed in the images on her walls are either someone her age or someone way too old. He would never admit it but the first time Liberty got into her space, he was looking for two middle-aged human beings that look the most upright and dressed the most respectable pieces of clothing that would pass as Naomi’s parents.
