The Cartel's Next Lie

Letter #1

Deedy—

No.

Delia.

I don’t know how to write your name like that. It feels like using a stranger’s toothbrush.

I’m so fucking angry I can barely see straight. You were alive. You were right there. Three feet away from me. Close enough to touch, but when I tried, you looked at my hand like it was something dirty.

I mourned you for fifteen years, and you corrected my fucking nickname.

I don’t know what to do with that.