“Yes, your dad’s house, insurance he might have had, other stuff,” he said.“Oh, okay, I guess,” I said. I hadn’t thought of any of that. D...d had said he was going to help me with some car stuff, but I didn’t know what funds he was going to use. I just thought it was maybe his pay, his regular pay. But now, with what Owen had said, maybe I would have some money—and the house. I didn’t know if it was paid for or not. It was the house I’d been raised in. I was twenty-nine; so he’d had to have had. When they put me under I had a vision of the deer I’d killed and gutted. It had been a doe, a female, in season so I hadn’t felt bad at the time. With my legs spread and held apart by metal as my insides were pulled I felt like a traitor. I felt like a cannibal, that I had killed and eaten a more graceful version of myself. On the way back home I sobbed through the drugs for the downy girl creature I’d done away with, blasted out of this world, desecrated and devoured. I have never mourned my. More

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