The first time I’d lost Kori was about six months into our friendship. She’d had a major falling-out with her father, so instead of going with her family to the Caribbean, she spent spring break at our house.

I could tell Mom was not pleased. She didn’t approve of Kori or Kori’s so-called influence over me. And it didn’t help that Kori enjoyed provoking her.

“Hey, Destiny, do you think my dad didn’t want me to go to the Virgin Islands because I’m not a virgin?

“Hey, Destiny, do you think if your boyfriend has sex with another girl, you should take him back? Do you think it’s more his fault or the skanky ho’s?

“Hey, Destiny, do you use birth control? I’m trying to decide which one is best.”

It went on and on, and at first I was envious, because I used to be able to ask Mom anything. But by age eleven or so, that had changed. Unexpectedly my questions took on a whole new life. Instead of answering questions directly, she’d say “Why are you (By you she really meant my daughter) asking about that?” or “Where did you hear that word?” or “That’s not something you need to worry about.”

Ask the wrong question and suddenly you were watched more closely than one of Professor McDugan’s petri dish experiments.

So naturally I thought Kori’s relentless questioning was brilliant and Mom’s growing unease, hysterical. But as the week wore on, the questions got more graphic and personal, and Mom’s patience got thinner and thinner. And when the week was up and Kori’d gone home to her family, Mom told me I wasn’t allowed to be friends with her anymore.

From that moment on, Kori wasn’t allowed in our house, and I wasn’t allowed to go to hers. It was by far the biggest fight Mom and I have ever had, and in truth it was still going strong. After only one week without Kori, I panicked. But Kori just laughed it off. “Don’t worry, kitten, they can’t keep us apart.” And she was right. With Mom’s crazy work schedule and the Kitzlers unaware of the arrangement, policing us was nearly impossible. Even so, it didn’t matter what lengths it took, I refused to give Kori up.

And now she was dead and I still couldn’t let her go. I didn’t know how.

When I awoke the next morning, I forced myself through the motions of getting up, showering, brushing my teeth. Amazing as it seemed to me that I was able to accomplish these things, I was too numb to congratulate myself. But I could tell Mom was both impressed and relieved to see me awake, moving, heading for the shower willingly and without assistance.