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I go inside, start toward
the phone, see the answering
machine light is blinking.
Why didn’t we hear it ring?
Too absorbed in storytelling?
Whatever. I hit the play button.
It’s my caseworker. This is Alice
Shreeveport. We have been
informed of your unfortunate
incident. We need to discuss
Summer’s living situation. Please …
CALL HER
She wants Dad to call her.
To discuss my living situation.
I could erase the message.
Pretend we never got it.
But they’d only come looking.
Sooner or later they would.
New blow to my solar plexus.
This time my asthma kicks in.
I didn’t want to live here.
Breathe. Can’t. Find. Air.
So what if they take me away?
Breathe. Can’t. Find. Air.
Put me in another foster home?
Breathe. Can’t. Find. Air.
Send me to a different town?
Breathe. Can’t. Find. Air.
Away from Dad. Kortni. Kyle.
Breathe. Must. Find. Inhaler.
