The Cartel's Next Lie

Letter #8

Delia—

A woman today told me there were two sisters.

Very mystical. Very New Orleans. Ten out of ten for atmosphere. Zero out of ten because she made me want to hurl.

She said one of us was in front of me and one was behind a door. I think I know which one I am.

Or I thought I did.

Cal is here now. I saw him on the street and for one second I forgot to be furious because he looked like home.

Then I remembered home is apparently just a prettier word for people who lie better than strangers.

I’m tired, Deedy.

I’m so fucking tired.