He hears the buzz from the audience followed by a momentary hush as one-by-one the literary snobs notice him. And his wonderful weapon.

Orelia’s wide smile drops as she understands what a mistake she’s made in ignoring him.

He squeezes the trigger and in that loud, sharp split-second everything wrong with his world is righted. So perfectly righted as if coming to the satisfying end of a fantastic book.

Orelia Mason had somehow stolen his mojo. He knew this as a certainty, as if he’d read it in the Bible. Not that he’d read the Bible. That book was for those without belief in themselves. With his luck, she’d win this award and the next one too, because there was something freaky happening in this screwed-up scenario.

What she hadn’t factored was a small detail. If he giveth good fortune, he now made a promise to do everything within his power to take that luck away.

5

Nem couldn’t recall when the thoughts of fairness wound their way into her imagination like tendrils of thick ivy. First, her view of the world altered as though someone changed the color of her emotional lens. Then, who she was, or the person she might become, disappeared, to be replaced with a new Nem. A steelier, cautious girl.

After her mom died, she cried and whimpered for the longest time, while life around her swirled into a blend of dark colors.

On that terrible night, she escaped the room unhurt and made her way to a neighbor’s apartment—Mrs. Klein, the lady with the dog. The police arrived soon after to see her. A nice lady from a department, the name of which she didn’t remember, also arrived in the following hours.

A nice policeman talked to her in a low, calm voice while the department lady sat by her side and placed her arm around Nem. Patch sat on her lap purring. As she retold the events to the policeman, the department lady squeezed her shoulder every time she paused.

“Can I see my mom?” Nem asked, as the policeman made notes. The two adults gave each other a strange look. Then the department lady hugged her so tight she struggled to breathe.

They told her an ambulance took her mom to a nearby hospital. This she would learn later was true. They just hadn’t told her everything.

Later, the lady took her to another house, where a large woman with tangled hair, reminding her of a bird’s nest sitting on her head, also gave her a hug.

“Welcome Nem. I’m Peg. They tell me you’ve been a brave girl.”

The department woman placed a hand upon Nem’s shoulder. “You’ll stay here while we work out how to help you and your mom.”

Peg squatted and patted the kitten. “Who is this?”

Nem stroked Patch’s fur but didn’t answer. Why hadn’t they said anything about her mom?

So much blood.

She must have needed a doctor. That would be why her mom was busy at the hospital and hadn’t come for her yet.