Kris sang Janis Joplin again. Sher sat bare bottom on the octagon tile floor. The girls had nowhere to go.
* * *
Virginia, Minnesota, July 1969
Virginia, Minnesota, July 1969“Girl.” A man’s voice woke Em.
Her eyelids fluttered. Colors floated.
“Holay. She dead?” Another man’s voice asked, his lyrical accent unmistakenly Indian.
Her cheek was flat to the floor. As she regained consciousness, pain struck like lightning. The colors turned to shapes—the black tip of a man’s loafer, dirty wood floor, scuffed walnut baseboard trim. She shut her eyes.
The black shoe nudged her hips.
Em made no sound, no movement.
“Sit her up,” the first man said. “She’s playing possum. Worth nothing if she chokes.”
A white man, Em thought.
A white man,One of the men grabbed her armpits and propped her
