I bolted down the porch to 304. Their screen door had been propped open, so I ran inside, shocked at the empty living room. It reminded me of that day that I looked around Tonya’s apartment and saw there was more space than furniture. There wasn’t even a table left in their place, though. I heard Ms. Patty’s voice in the back of the apartment, so I followed the sound. As I approached, I noticed that the bathroom door was closed. In her bedroom, Ms. Patty stared out the window, looking at the moving truck. I startled her when I asked, “Where’s Precious?”

She snapped her head around and gave me a sad smile. “She’s in the bathroom.”

I stood outside the door, waiting for her. When she opened it, she burst into tears, and I reached out and hugged her. My friend since forever was moving. They were putting their things in storage and going to live with family elsewhere until they could move into their new place in the lovely Hyde Park. Just like I thought, her mama couldn’t care less about our friendship and planned to move her out without letting her say bye. I gave Precious the tightest, longest, wettest hug, and when we let go, I didn’t know what to say. She spoke up and said, “I’m praying for your brother.”

I put my head down, and more tears dropped all over my outfit as I thought about him locked away. Now she was leaving too. She grabbed me, and again we hugged. Talking through tears, to the back of her neck, I told her, “You gonna forget me.”

She detangled our arms and said, “You my best friend. All in together, any kinda weather!”

I nodded. Then I said, “But people jump out the rope on that game and go separate ways.”

“Then they play another game together,” she said, cheesing, her face rosy now, reduced from the bright red. She’d somehow managed to control her emotions, and convince me that I was special, and that we would remain friends even though she was leaving.

Ms. Patty walked over and told us that it was time. I hit my friend and screamed, “Last tag!” and she chased me through her empty living room and down the porch. I ran to my apartment and she stopped in the square. At my door, I waved at her, and she did the same until her mother walked up and ushered her away.

Twenty-Two
The Vanishing

It was Sweat’s blood all over 1502. There were murmurs around the block that the baby Buchanans were taken away from Gail, Stacia included, thrown in “the system.” The way people talked about foster care made me sad for her; it was as if she went to jail too.