m E

watched from Purgatory, a gray, silent place. I have seen generations

of convenience and obligation.

ng of shadow and dust

Lily. It is Thanksgiving, a day for family. If the mother or

t opened. I st

ll, wearing a thin dress. My hands were tiny. I

ed me toward Silicon Valley, to a campus of glass

the entrance, a

s tall, dressed in an expensive suit, his face

His body

eyes scanned my face, searching. But he wasn't looking for

he name, but it was a qu

cry. He just took my hand,

me. You' r

o pictures on the walls. No toys. Just glass and metal.

d, avoiding my eyes. "You' re going to

t his voice was hollow. He

et. It was a secret pattern, one the real Lily had designed just for her brother. A te

from the hallway, low a

nor is here.

pa

re. My real sunflower will be saved

fell from

ured. Real

tomach. The transactional nature of his love was lai