They still populate her room, and when I enter it, they hiss. I say, 'Listen. I didn't come in here to argue.'
'Well, what did you come in here for?' the hideous dolls snarl in unison.
I circle my wagons. 'Lay off. It wasn't all my fault you know. Not one hundred percent.'
'Liar! Liar! At least ninety-five and you know it!'
Her bed lies just as she left it, impeccably made, the curtains drawn, all her things in their proper places.
Leaving her room, I mumble, 'Fifty percent, and not a cent more!' And after closing the door, I put my ear to it, and hear only the dull, muffled grind of an awful silence, seventy-five percent of which I own.
on either side