“I think we should check the mail,” I tell Murphy, even though I know the mailman, Leonard, came and went already with nothing for me. But my neighbor wasn’t here when the mail truck came by, so he wouldn’t know that I’d already gone out and checked. I run my fingertips through my hair and then smooth down my cream sweater. Even though I rarely see anyone but myself in the mirror each day, I still like to dress nice. Growing up, I couldn’t wear what I liked, so now I take advantage of every freedom I have. The bite of January air hits me as soon as I open my door and I tuck my arms around
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