“Hungry?” Tammy asks, reaching into her lunch to pull out a bologna-and-cheese sandwich. The truth is I’m not. I’m too far gone to consider being hungry. But the sight of the sandwich carefully tucked into a bag with a fold-over top makes me think of Meredith, and all the supposedly extra bologna-and-cheese sandwiches she’d brought to school for years, even though I knew damn well she hated bologna. I start to cry.
