She handed her a doggie blanket and an empty picture frame.
My sister drew a picture of Lily on a little whiteboard in our room, and on an Etch-A-Sketch. One of her missing posters is by the kitchen and another is taped to the back window of the car. Her little tent is still in the hallway, with all her toys inside and her clothes stacked on top of it. Clothes that belonged to my brother as an infant and now belong to her. The magic paper cranes that I sent home are hanging on the front door.
My mother had us go on this walk through the slough with her today and my sister was like, I don't understand what the point of walking is if you don't have a dog with you. I told her that's exactly what I'd just been thinking, too.
