I slide behind a faded plastic play climber and take care of business. The plastic’s hot on my bare skin, but being out of that dust-clogged room lets me breathe again. When I’m finishing up, I hear something moving in the shadows of the house behind me. An image of the deranged stranger who shot me flashes through my head. I step back until I’m pressed against a chain-link fence, my pulse in my throat. Metal digs into my back as I eye the dark entryway. Who’s in there? Forget it. I don’t wanna know. I grip the rusted fence, ready to boost myself up, I see the shine off an egg-shaped head in the house. Hatch, following me again.

Hatch appears at the doorway and clomps down the rotting back steps into the yard. His bare feet, blackened at the soles, make slapping sounds on the ancient wooden boards. His mouth hangs open as his eyes run up my body again.

“What do you want?” One hand searches my pocket. No weapons. My eyes flit around the yard for something to brain him with and come up with nothing.

He scratches a bug bite on his bald nugget of a head and hunches up his shoulders.

“Clay said you weren’t supposed to be around me.” I lean into the fence, the metal diamonds pressing into my back. I can be over it and gone in seconds.

Hatch takes another step toward me. The stairs moan under his weight. “Clay’s not the boss. Boss don’t care where I go, he said.” His eyes linger at the swell of my chest beneath my t-shirt.

It might be reckless, but recklessness is all I have left to save my mother’s life. I take a step toward the giant blocking my path. “Hatch, were you following me?”

He blinks at me for a moment as if the gears in his head turn real slow. He’s missing at least a half-dozen teeth. He points to my hair. “You smell like flowers.”

I shiver a little, but try not to show my disgust. “You like how I smell?”

He nods. “Like honeysuckle.”

I smell like honeysuckle? I remember the sweet-smelling soaps Betsy used to slide to me in the shower at the hospital. I smile a little at Hatch. “Do you want to smell my hair?” My brain screams, What are you doing?