The officer left after he’d taken notes on what he needed and Mycole asks me to come and stay with him in the meantime. I didn’t want to. I wanted to stay here in this house so my death can come, but Mycole pleaded I should and not torture myself anymore.

“How do I tell the three Js that mom’s dead?”

“I’ll tell them,” Mycole replies, and he hands me a glass of milk. “You don’t have to worry.”

I take the glass cup to my lips and take a sip and keep it on the nearby stool. Mycole comes to take a seat beside me and he takes my...