As the other women went their separate ways, Tori was staring into space. Maybe that’s what she needed. A good psychic. A medium. Whatever they’re called. She wondered how she could find out more about it. Her. Maybe she, too, would take a little trip to the center on her day off, which was Saturday and Sunday. She then realized she would have to explain to her husband why she was going to an art center. Too many questions. She could take a personal day during the week. Tori worked at a small law firm as an assistant. There were three partners in the firm, and they rotated taking Wednesdays off. She could coordinate with her boss.

Luckily for Tori, she was well organized. She had to be. At the age of ten, she was the adult on duty. If it weren’t for Tori, her little brother J.T. wouldn’t have a clean pair of pajamas. There would be no meals, no lunch to take to school. In spite of the lack of adult supervision, Tori ran an efficient household. Her father would hide cash in one of the hutches for food and supplies. Only Tori knew where the money was hidden. Her father made sure of that. He didn’t want Tori and J.T.’s mother spending it on booze. Yes, Tori had the sense and organizational skills out of sheer survival. But planning ahead for herself? There was never any time for that.

Tori thought about J.T. She wondered where he was. How he was. It stunk, not having a family. Even if she hadn’t run away, she still wouldn’t have a family. Sure, she had one parent and a brother. But that didn’t constitute a family. They were simply human beings sharing some of the same DNA, bound together legally, and existing under the same roof. She really thought her life would be different by now. Maybe it wasn’t too late. She prayed it wasn’t too late.

Tori took one more spin through the bakery department. A woman was handing out samples of something called rugelach. It was a small crescent pastry swirled with a cinnamon filling. The buttery flakes melted in her mouth. The sign read:

$20.00 DOZEN