I sniffled and turned to face her. “I think probably a penis.”

“Oh, Kira,” she sighed. “Listen to me. You’re so close. I’m here with you. Joellen is, too. You can do this. Use the phone.” She stood and went to the stairs.

“Francine?”

“Yes.”

“Terry Johnson sleeps with me. Sometimes.”

“I know.”

“You do?”

“I’m just glad you’re not sleeping on the sofa anymore. Terrible for your back.”

Terry Johnson burrowed under my knees and curled up tight.

“Muiriel, unpack. Stay. Let me help you.”

It was the thought that it would be so nice to have help—her help—that made me cry harder. Because very soon, the second I aged out, I would have no help from anyone at all. Relying on her kindness now would make my life a million times harder than when I had only me.

I pulled Terry Johnson up and let him rest his head beside me on the pillow. I could have stayed awake and called Joellen to get on a ferry and come pick me up, like I’d done every time, with every placement, year after year after year.

But now I’d slipped. And Francine was not mad.

Worried, but not mad.

I was so tired.

The phone lit up.

Are you okay? I’m so sorry.

I didn’t respond. Terry Johnson snored me to sleep.

I carry with me a brass key to a door I will never open.

For a room to be legally used as a bedroom for foster placements, it must have a window and a closet. I lived once, when I was eleven, with two other girls in a bedroom that had a closet door, but it was locked. All the time. Because even though the mom pretended it was for us during inspections from CPS, really it was a Christmas closet. I knew this because one early morning I was the only kid awake, still in bed reading, and she came in, put her finger to her lips, and unlocked the door to toss in some rolls of wrapping paper. Inside was a life-sized light-up Santa, huge plastic bins of garland and greenery, and a fully assembled fake tree.

We kept our clothes in our suitcases and in a small dresser, one drawer for each of us. Our shoes stayed beside the front door in wooden apple crates.