I work several days a week—a break I need for multiple reasons—and Daniel and I spend more and more time together when we’re off, so most days I only have to be at the apartment to sleep. My sketchbook lays at the foot of my bed. At night I lie with the lamp on and sketch the people I see around the Quarter. I like drawing the real people most, the ones the Quarter overlooks. They are not performers or artists or staples like my mom. And they are not tourists passing through with a hunger for rich food and loud music. They are the ones that New Orleans has forgotten. Some are just kids. Others are older, with yellowed eyes and deeply etched wrinkles that I imagine could tell their story if you ran your fingers over them like grooves in a record. They ask for money, or they ask for coffee, or they just watch you pass with looks that follow you for blocks.

And in between all these are the other sketches—the ones of the people I see but shouldn’t. The Magician and his tricky face. The man in his bathrobe, so young and old at once. The woman with her covered eyes, the light hiding beneath her veil. I am careful now. I don’t wander. I don’t get caught alone. Even my dreams have been quieter. But sometimes I feel them watching me from under a streetlamp or on a balcony. I keep my head down when that happens. I walk fast. At night, in my bed, I turn the box of tarot cards over in my hands, but I don’t open it. Not since Fortune’s Gate.

Moony’s watch is still ticking under my pillow where I’ve hidden it. I give up on folding up the sofa bed every morning. Mary doesn’t complain and Gary, for all his promises, still hasn’t made good on his search for a real bed or a place with two bedrooms. More than once, I hear him whisper to her about moving into his place, but she deflects the offer again and again, and while I don’t relish the idea of living with Gary full-time, I can’t help but wonder what’s holding her back. My mom may look like she’s standing on her own two feet, but people with her condition—they need others. A good support system they call it online. Mary is better at pushing people away than keeping them close, but she needs Gary. And whether I like it or not, she needs me.