Chapter 10

“Aww.”

The box my mother had packed caught my eye next. I tore into it, as if Christmas was that night and not in three days. She’d given me some kitchen things, and a nightlight. I’d never slept without one while living there. With all the street lamps up and down the avenue, I just slept with the window shade partway up here. That did the trick. She’d included two jars of the only peanut butter I liked, some boxed chocolates, and a pack of socks I may have left in a drawer. The “Footloose” CD I played almost until it had worn out brought a lump to my throat, and my medals made me want to play it right then. Way down in one corner I found a blue velvet pouch. I was expecting my dog tags. What I found instead, to my astonishment, was Sawyer’s reconfigured melted bullet charm on its chain. “How in hell?” 3

New Year’s Eve