Afterlife

by Julia Alvarez

The sisters check in with Officer Morgan or one of his colleagues several times a day. They’ve downloaded the Missing Person Checklist from outpostforhope.org. Made all the recommended phone calls, and then some: to family members, friends, former workplace, though Izzy hasn’t been employed for the past couple of years. It turns out she was fired from the Spanish-language mental health practice she helped start. Something about Izzy not keeping sufficiently clear professional boundaries—at one point even hosting an ad hoc refugee camp in her basement, bereft abuelitas mourning their disappeared children and grandchildren. Izzy did get some sort of severance/disability package, and while they were still alive, a monthly allowance from their parents. She also recently sold her house, so there’s that little stockpile, which is what she must be using to buy abandoned properties in Western Mass. Back in Boston, where she has been living, she seems to have been camping out with one friend or another, but then falling out with them and moving on. Only one friend, Maritza, recently heard from her. Izzy asked her to join the board of the Migrant Centro de Arte. I didn’t have the heart to say no, Maritza explains.