104 Sundays of Lies

ay. Ethan and Maria

' m alone with the tattoo on my ankle an

or, but the tattoo proves one thing: a part of me, t

set, my drawers, un

dresser. It was a gift from my grandmothe

h on the side. A fals

piece of paper. It' s my h

LEEPING DRAFTS. D

Maria brings me a small white pill. A "vitamin

g it every night

om, a glass of water in one hand,

sleepyhead," she says,

my mouth, take a big sip of water, and sw

I hide it under my tongue. Th

bby," she says,

aria," I say,

k shut. Then I spit the wet, chalky pill

straining for any sound. I force my breath

asses. Th

from the living room. L

than an

re lau