“Right now, Marcy and the birthday girl are curled up on the couch under a blanket watching The Little Princess with Shirley Temple for what, the hundredth time? That Marcy; I don’t know how she does it. I made ‘em popcorn then I said I had to go get smokes, be right back.
I didn’t need smokes. What I needed was to get the hell out of there, go for a drive, think. And I knew just what I’d be thinking: she was six, just like my Anna—I know because she told us or maybe I remember reading it in the paper after. Her name was Olive Copely.

I got that name tattooed on my brain.”