Tropesick

Chapter 85

Katie

Ingrid and I lay on the carpet of Mikey’s bedroom, heads almost touching, eyes fixed on the blank white ceiling. For what

seemed like an eternity, it had been like this. Ingrid, talking. Me, soaking up every last word.

And then there was silence.

She’d run out of stories, and that was that.

That was all we’d ever get.

“Ingrid?” I said.

She turned to me, wiping the tears from her eyes. The sun had shifted, and it was evening now, warm and still.

“Do you maybe have a ball gown?”