43 Meimi
Thorne pulls me closer against him. I run my fingers across the contour of the chest plate on his body armor. Our kiss deepens.
Images appear in my mind.
A slim woman with white-blonde hair and deep laugh lines. My mother.
A younger version of her. That’s Luci.
I picture Zoe, Chloe, and I sitting in mismatched chairs at the back of a double-wide trailer while we giggle our way through math class … then I witness myself going on tiptoe to wag my pointer finger in Fritz’s square face, telling him how my latest prototype is worth double the credits … and finally I watch Miss Edith making one of her ever-present cups of tea in our kitchen at Ozymandias Chemical. Mom and I chose to hide there after she became more catatonic.
Leaning back, I break the kiss.
“What’s wrong?” asks T
