she told herself; the room that has always been here, and always will; the room that hasnât changed. I am five, she pretended. Mom is in the kitchen making an early dinner. They are going out tonight to aparty, and Sarah is coming over to baby-sit. Iâll go and play with my dollhouse soon.
But it wouldnât last, so she opened her eyes and stretched. Her fingers touched the sleek cheapness of newsprint. The morning paper was still spread on the couch. She glanced at it with little interest, but the headline glared: MOTHER OF Two FOUND DEAD . Her stomach lurched. Everyoneâs mother found dead, she thought bitterly. Why not everyoneâs? But she couldnât help reading the next few lines. Throat slashed, the article said, drained dry of blood.
âThatâs absurd,â she said aloud. Her fingers tightened in disgust, crumpling the page. âWhat is thisâthe
National Enquirer?â
She tossed the paper away, wrenched herself to her feet, and headed for her room.
But the phone rang before she reached the stairs. She flinched but darted for the hall extension and picked it up. It was a familiar voice, but not her fatherâs.
âZoë, itâs horrible.â Lorraine, her best friend, wailed across the phone lines with typical drama. It should have been comforting.
âWhatâs horrible?â Zoë gasped with pounding heart. Had the hospital phoned Lorraineâs house because she wasnât home?
âWeâre moving.â
âWhat?â A momentâs confusion.
âDad got that job in Oregon.â
âOregon? My God, Lorraine. Venus.â
âAlmost.â
Zoë sat down in the straight-backed chair beside the phone table. It wasnât her father. It wasnât death calling, but ⦠âWhen?â she asked.
âTwo weeks.â
âSo soon?â Zoë wrapped and unwrapped the phone cord around her fist. This isnât happening, she thought.
âThey want him right away. Heâs flying out tonight. Can you believe it? Heâs going to look for a house when he gets there. I got home and Diane was calling up moving companies.â
âBut you said he wasnât serious.â
âShows how much he tells me, doesnât it? Diane knew.â
Zoë grasped for something to say. Couldnât something stop this? âIsnât she freaked at the rush?â
âOh,
she
thinks itâs great. Itâs a place nuclear fallout will miss, and she can grow lots of zucchini.â
âWhat about your mom?â
âShe wouldnât care if he moved to Australia. But sheâs pretty pissed that heâs taking me.â
âCanât you stay with her?â Please, please, Zoë begged silently.
âOh, you know. Thatâs a lost battle. Cramp her style.â
âLorraine! Sheâs not that bad.â
âShe moved out, didnât she?â
No use fighting that argument again, Zoë thought. âOregon.â She sighed.
Lorraine groaned. âYeah! This is hideous. Itâs the wilderness or something. Iâm not ready for the great trek. I could stay with you,â she added hopefully.
âIâll ask,â Zoë said, although there wasnât a chance. They both knew that was impossible right now.
âNah!â
What will I do? Zoë thought. âYou can visit.â It seemed a pathetic suggestion.
âBig deal!â
âYeah.â
âCan you come over?â Lorraine asked.
âNo. I better stay here for now.â
âUh-oh! Something wrong?â
âSheâs in the hospital again.â
âOh, hell.â
This is where Lorraine shuts down, Zoë thought. Why canât she talk to me about it? Why does she have to back off every time? Sheâs my best friend, damn it, not like those nerds at school who are too embarrassed even to look at me anymore. She searched for what she wanted to say. Something to keep Lorraine