I thought about the medicine in the bathroom cabinet, the bottle with the name Elizabeth Young on it, and how Mammy took one out every day and gave it to me. “Am I sick like the lady?” The hot feeling grew inside of me, gobbling up the earlier excitement. “There’s something wrong with me, isn’t there?” I knew there was. I heard the voices, too. They whispered in my ear when I was alone in my bed at night.
