PART 3   I stared at the hospital bracelet in the lunchbox until the letters of my own name blurred.

eyes.

Of course Diane said that.

She had always measured people by what they owned, then called it realism.

Walter slid the envelope across the table.

“Your mother did not have nothing.”

I looked at him.

“What does that mean?”

“It means she was quiet, not empty.”

The envelope had my name written on it.

Avery, when you are ready.

My hands trembled when I opened continue reading …