Three
Katty yawned. Good to sleep in today. She checked her phone. Wow.
Bea slept in too? It was seven o’clock and she wasn’t begging for cereal and juice. Maybe she was growing up. Oh, for when Bea was sixteen and slept till noon.
Katty slipped out from under the sheet and stretched. So much she should do today.
Laundry. Always laundry.
What she really should do was work with Bea—let her practice writing her name. While she did that, Katty loved to draw. Bea always wanted to draw too—cute trees and sunshine, but Katty made her write her name several times before she turned her loose.
She glanced at all the drawings Bea had taped up in the living room, as she zipped up her hoodie.
Everywhere. Above the doorjamb. Down the legs of the kitchen table.
Well, she had taped the ones above
