This home is a tribute to the 1980s. Mauve carpet stretches from wall to wall. Matching mauve curtains curl and froth at the living room window, which frames a mauve and green floral couch. Above the fireplace mantel is a wooden plaque hanging from a wire, carved to spell out GOD BLESS OUR HOME. To the right is the open kitchen with golden oak cupboards, golden brass fixtures, and fake mauve flowers in pastel blue vases.

It’s a decorating disaster, but it looks lived in and loved.

“Hello?” I call out in a wavering voice, just in case.

Waves and waves of rotting fruit make me a little dizzy. Maybe I should leave the door open to help the place air out. A harsh laugh bursts out of me. Leaving the door open would mean letting in the scent of carrion—and its accompanying flies and birds.

I slam the door shut.

“Let’s see what we’ve got, Em,” I say, heading toward the kitchen.

I find a long cupboard that seems promising and swing it open. Pay dirt.

It’s filled to the brim with specialty cereals (“Heart-healthy Wheat ’ems, for all your fiber needs!”), organic tortilla chips, StayFit Nutrition Bars, and no less than four twelve-packs of Ensure, in vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry.

“Wow, Em, this is nasty. But it’ll last a long time.”

What I don’t find is dog food. Or cat food or any kind of pet food. I rummage through the pantry cupboard and scrounge up two cans of tuna and six tins of Spam, neatly stacked. “Huh. It will have to do.”

I find a spoon and a small plate, then peel open a tin and plop the wobbly, glistening meat brick onto the plate. Emmaline whines at the smell. I set it on the ground, and she sniffs it suspiciously, then plunges her muzzle into it and noisily chomps away.

“Well, I’m glad that worked out.”

I help myself to a can of chocolate Ensure, which isn’t nearly as bad as I thought it would be. As I sip, my lower abdomen clenches, somewhere deep inside. It doesn’t hurt exactly. It’s more like a warning. I hold out the can of Ensure and study it with suspicion. Maybe I should have something else. Do I know of anything that prevents diarrhea? Dehydration might be deadly for me right now.

My abdomen clenches again. This time, warmth spreads throughout my pelvis, and the sensation is familiar. I’m about to start my period.

I’m late. It should have started days ago. My sickness must have stalled it, and now that I’m getting regular food and water, it’s about to return with a vengeance.