Chapter 80

PERSEPHONE

“Elsa died,” I say to Daisy.

We are sitting on the floor of my new bedroom.

It’s a very nice bedroom. Peter from Kenny Lane gave Mum a whole lot of money after Elsa died.

Elsa left the money to him when she died, and Peter said he had a feeling she would like it if he shared it with us.

Now Mum and I have moved into a fancy rental.

Soon we’ll buy our own house, Mum says. I know this makes her happy.

I wish I could be happy. But I miss Elsa too much.

There are coloring books on the floor, but neither of us is coloring. Nugget is in my lap, where she always is when I am home. At first I thought she smelled Elsa on me, but it’s been three months since she died. I can’t still smell like her.

“I know,” Daisy says. “You told me. But this is the first time you’ve said that without crying.”

I still cry all the time. I cried this morning. Maybe it’s weird. She was an old lady. She wasn’t even my grandma. But she was my friend. When you’ve never had a lot of friends, that is important. Elsa knew this. That was another reason we were friends, I think.

“Maybe you’re starting to feel better?”

Daisy smiles at me hopefully. I like it when she smiles, even though she has oddly small teeth.

It makes her face look rounder. She’s not a pretty girl, not like Delly.

But she wears nice clothes. Today she’s wearing a magenta T-shirt with a bedazzled Eiffel Tower on the front.

Her glasses are also magenta. It’s hard to be sad around someone wearing magenta glasses.

“I don’t want to feel better. I feel like if I get better, it means I don’t love Elsa anymore.”

“Balderdash. Of course you love her.”

“But what if she’s watching me? And she sees I’m happy? And she thinks …” I look down at my lap. Nugget looks back at me. I think she’s as sad as I am.

“She won’t.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I know.” Daisy taps her head atop her wispy hair. “Don’t forget, you weren’t the only one who knew her.”

I look up at her. I had forgotten that. After three months with her, it felt like she belonged to me.

“That’s right,” I say. “You did.”

She smiles. “Except when I knew her,” she says, “she used to call me Daphne.”

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