Tony

Tony pressed the pay phone to her ear, straining to listen to the sound on the other end of the line. A group of basketball players walked past her, hooting and hollering and talking loudly about some game or another. Something small hit the side of her head - a spitball, maybe - and she stuck her middle finger in their direction. There was a crackle on the other end of the line, then the low, distrusting sound of a man's voice over rock n' roll music.

"Sammies Bar and Grill. What can I do you for?"

"Hi, yeah," she switched the phone to the other ear and held it in place with her shoulder as she toyed with the cord. "I'm looking for a man named Marshall. Is he there?"

"Hold on, did you say Marshall? Not sure I know a man with that name, miss."

"You probably don't know him personally. He's new to town. But you've seen him. He's-" Tony waved her hand over her head, then remembered that the person on the other line couldn't see her. "He's really tall, like, six feet something. Long black hair with silver streaks? Probably calls everybody 'compadre' or 'amigo.'"

"Yeah, yeah, that fella. Yeah, he's here right now. Can I ask who's calling?"

"I'm his wi…I'm his friend. Tell him it's Bunny. He'll know who I am."

"You got it, miss."

Tony gnawed on her bottom lip as she watched a trio of cheerleaders perform their routine on the lawn. Joining the cheerleading squad was next on her list of things to do - not because she was passionate about cheer, but because it seemed like something to keep her busy. She considered approaching them with a new design for their outfits: a black-lined piece with a much more spooky version of their tiger mascot. The cheer squad was a tough rank to infiltrate, but Tony was up for the challenge.

Ever since researching the long-term effects of living in a cult, she had been trying to break out of her mold by conquering her comfort zone. No more 'small, gray pebble' shit. She was ready to become the large, imposing mountain unfazed by the crashing of the waves. The easy part had been replacing her school uniform with her signature SF hippie attire: a pale yellow minidress with fishnets, Marshall's old bucket hat, and a lavender beaded scarf wrapped around the waist. Now came the hard part.

"Y'alright there, sunshine," Marshall asked from the other end of the line. Tony strangled the phone cord between her fingers, suddenly unsure of what to say. "Need me to come pick you up?"

"No, um." She shook her head and exhaled shakily. "I'm good, I'm good. Are you busy?"

"Just about to head home to catch the game. Got us a couple cartons of that Alfredo pasta that you like, probably going to head to the gas station and get a pack of smokes. You still flying straight or do you want me to get you one, too?"

"No. Marshall-"

"All of you shut the fuck up," Marshall yelled at someone on his end of the line. There was laughter and then silence as, presumably, everyone in the bar stared at him in terror. Marshall had a way about him, as Andrea used to say. He chuckled as he returned to the line, and she suddenly felt tears spring to her eyes. "Sorry about that, mon cherie. Folks out here got the gift of gab and don't know what the hell to do with it-"

"I want a divorce-"

"-say, I was thinkin' we could take a trip on over to the lake. Maybe make a day of it, you know, call it a road trip or whatnot. Good ol' Wayne let me borrow some of his fishing gear-"

"-Marshall-!"

"-we could even renew our vows-"

"Marshall!"

"I fucking heard you the first time!"

Tony yanked the phone from her ear and bit the side of her hand. Of course, she knew it wouldn't be easy. But she hadn't expected it to hurt like hell. She didn't hate Marshall, but she didn't know how to love him either. The limbo would have driven her crazy if she had chosen to stay with him. She sniffled and pressed the phone against her ear again.

"I just want this to be as easy and quick as possible," she said, trying her best to hold back a sob. A cheerleader with bright blue eyeliner and a green bow in her hair walked passed and cast Tony a worried look. "There's no hard feelings. I just need to go and live my own life now. I'm deprogramming."

"Deprogramming from what? Me? Tony," there was a hitch in his voice. She imagined him stooping in the corner of some bar, brushing his tears away with the back of his hand, and trying to appear strong in front of the bar patrons. As if his world wasn't falling apart from the other end of the line. Randomly, she wondered which pair of stupid pants he was wearing: the red ones with the suspenders or the leopard print silk or the yellow cotton sweats with the stain on the knee. "Tony, baby. L-listen…y-y-ou can't really-"

"I can," she said steadily, strongly. "And I will. You did nothing wrong, Marsh, and I'm so happy for the years that we spent together. You made me feel safe and taken care of, and you supported me-"

"So why," he pleaded, then stopped abruptly.

"Because it wasn't what either of us wanted to begin with! I married you because Andrea told me to, and I didn't have my own voice back then. But now I do. So, this is goodbye, Marsh." She braced her palm against her quivering lips and squeezed her eyes shut. She was ugly-crying now, and not a damn person on campus bothered to stop to ask if she was okay. "I'm going to stay with the Munsons until I can find my own place, okay? You can just leave all my stuff in the boxes. I'll get it later."

"Antoinette, please-"

"I have to go. Stay safe out there, Marsh."

She gently placed the phone back on the receiver and flicked the tears from her lashes. The receptionist that she had met on the first day of school was marching towards her, her eyes wide and chunky heels 'clip-clopping' along the pavement.

"Ms. Simmons," the receptionist said. It took Tony a moment to remember that Marianne Simmons was the alias that she had been using. "Do you have a moment?'

"Look, if this is about my outfit-"

"We'll deal with your 'outfit' later." The receptionist's eyes flickered towards the hem of Tony's minidress, then flickered towards her bucket hat. She cleared her throat. "I received a rather distressing call from a concerned party."

"Go on," Tony said. Her throat suddenly felt as dry as notebook paper.

"It - well, you see. Perla, the Physical Education teacher for St. Josephine's - whom you obviously know - well, I gave her a call, just to check in. I told her that you had come to Hawkins High and that you had settled well. When I told her your name, she informed me that a student with the same name had passed away several years before you came to Hawkins."

Fuck, Tony thought to herself. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! The receptionist adjusted her bulbous glasses and peered at her, really staring straight into Tony's soul.

"You are Marianne Simmons, correct," the receptionist pressed on. Tony dry swallowed and nodded mutely.

"It must be a coincidence, ma'am. I have documents that prove that I'm Marianne Simmons-"

"I am well aware. But I asked Perla to do some research for me. According to her, there was only one Marianne Simmons in attendance at St. Josephines at the time that you claim to have been there, sweetie. And that young woman is, unfortunately, dead. So either she has come back to life or you-"

"Ma'am, please listen to me." Tony pressed her hands together in front of her face and lowered her voice to a whisper. Of all fucking times, she thought to herself. "I'm going to level with you because I trust you, and there is no other adult in my life that I can trust. My IDs were stolen from me - everything: birth certificate, passport, social security card. So, yes, you're fuckin' right, I applied to Hawkins High with fake documents. But I had no other choice, okay? I wanted - no, I needed to get my education in any way that I could. Because education is the only thing that's going to keep me from going back to where I was before." Tony paused to catch her breath. "If I'm kicked out of this school, I'm going to hit rock bottom again. And I can't do that, ma'am. Please, I will do anything to stay at Hawkins High. Anything."

The receptionist's face softened. Tony knew that the woman had grandchildren, judging by the picture frames that lined her desk. She was the grandmotherly sort, the one who wore glasses with beaded chains and kept a bowl of Werther's caramels ready for students going through tough days. If there was anyone at Hawkins High who could sympathize with Tony, it was that damned, sweet receptionist.

"Aw, sweetie. C'mere, little one." The receptionist held her arms out. Tony ground her teeth together and willed herself not to cry again as the receptionist wrapped her arms around her. The woman smelled like mothballs and stale coffee breath. "It'll be fine," the receptionist cooed as she patted Tony's back. "We'll get it all figured out, okay?"

"Are you going to kick me out?"

"Forgery is a serious crime, love," the receptionist said, her voice muffled by Tony's shoulder. "But if you can get me the proper documents, perhaps I could 'make some magic happen,' as you young folks say. Maybe it was all my fault! Maybe I accidentally entered the wrong student's information when I meant to enter yours." The receptionist pulled back and winked at Tony.

"But I can't get those documents back," Tony said.

"Then I'm sorry, sweetie. There's nothing I can do for you."

A sudden thought occurred to Tony right as the receptionist turned away. She ran after her and threw herself in front of the startled woman.

"You said that someone called you, right?" Tony asked. "And that's why you called St. Josephine's? S-someone snitched on me, didn't they? Who was it?"

"I don't know," the woman admitted with a shrug. "It was a woman. She never said her name, but she did make a rather odd comment. Oh, crimminy, what was it?" The receptionist squinted her eyes as she thought. "Oh, yes. She told me to tell you that, 'it's time to come home, Bunny.'"

X

Tony returned to the Munson trailer later that night. She greeted Wayne tepidly and then rushed into Eddie's room where she had set up her keyboard. A new sound was in the works, and she wanted nothing more than to lose herself in it completely. Earlier that week, she had recorded the sounds of a fax machine in progress and then emulated it on her board. It was a creepy, otherworldly, and mechanical sound that required little tinkering. She liked it raw and untapered, the perfect background noise for that experimental and industrial genre that was only gaining traction in the 80s - something like heavy metal, but more aggressive and untrammeled - more feral and definitely ugly. The sound was playing so loudly in her ears that she barely heard Eddie bust into the room.

"Tony! Tony, look! Who am I?"

Tony sighed and pushed her headphones away. Eddie jumped high, threw a waded ball of paper into the wastebasket, and yelled, 'Goal' loud enough to wake every resident of the trailer park.

"Are you pretending to play basketball or soccer," she asked in complete and utter disbelief.

"Which is the one where they yell 'goal?' Eddie asked as he balled up another paper, preparing to toss it across the room.

"That's soccer."

"Okay, yeah, but they have goals in basketball too, right?"

"No, silly. They have laundry baskets."

"But isn't the goal to put the ball in the laundry basket?"

"Yeah, but-"

"Then my point is proven: basketball has goals!"

Eddie muttered 'whoosh' under his breath and landed the paper ball in the wastebasket. She was quick to dig it out and fling it back at him. He ducked with a scream and then popped back up with a wild, dazed grin on his face.

"Never took you to be the sporty type," she said as he plopped down beside her and wriggled her headphones onto his ears.

"Don't let this charming facade fool you," he said in his deep, dramatic D&D voice. "Under all these soft and intelligent layers, I'm actually an orc- I mean, a jock. Whatcha working on?"

Without waiting for a response, he flicked a knob on her keyboard. His brow creased as he listened to the high, churning whine of the fax machine. Though he was a fellow musician, it often took him a while to discern the melodies and rhythms beneath her wide assortment of odd sounds. He took one headphone off and glanced at her in concern.

"Everything alright, sweetheart?"

Damn, he was good. All it took was him listening to three seconds of her recording to discern the manufactured notes of panic in it. She slipped the headphones from his head and tousled his hair back into its messy disarray.

"I'll get straight to the point," she said. "I think Andrea called the school and told them that I wasn't Marianne Simmons."

"No fucking way! You're shitting me," Eddie said in disbelief. He tucked his arms around his chest and leaned in closer to her. "I thought she was the one who set you up with the bullshit documents in the first place? You know, so you could go to school-"

"You know as well as I do that everything that Andrea does is a game. She wanted me to go to school because she expected me to fail. To drop out, you dig? So that she could prove that I'm nothing without her. Somehow, she must have realized that I'm actually doing okay here. And that pisses her off."

"Tell the school that she forged the documents."

"With what proof?"

"I don't know, man! We'll think of something, alright? You can't go back to that Farm."

"I know, Eddie, I know." Tony threw her arms around him and hugged him tight. It was an awkward hug, his bony shoulder jutting into her equally bony chest. Still, the warmth and feel of him brought her comfort. "The receptionist said that she might be able to work with me if I can get her my real documents."

"But Andrea has your real documents."

"Mm-hm." Tony closed her eyes and squeezed him so hard that he sputtered. She had an idea, but there was no way in hell that she was going to tell him. "Remember what I said before? You and I - we're resourceful. We make shit work. There's no way that I'm leaving you and this school without a fight."

"Then allow me to throw a couple o' punches with you, my lady," Eddie said. "You wanna clue me into your plan or somethin'?"

"Nah," she said as she pulled back. "I just want to pretend like none of this is happening right now. You know, have a normal Friday night with the normal 'Freak' Munson. So what should we do, then," she asked excitedly. "Play Spin the Bottle? Or, ooh, maybe we can hide underneath your blanket and tell scary stories."

"Or we can hide beneath my blanket and do other things - ow!" Eddie yelped as she socked him in the chest. "Watch the clavicle, Shields!"

"I do what I want."

"Obviously, damn." Eddie stood up, rubbing his shoulder. She giggled as he tucked her bucket hat over his mane of hair and tilted the edge. "I have an idea: you, me, party at the infamous House of Usher."

"Isn't that the story with that one dead chick," Tony asked. Eddie smiled and raised his brows, no doubt amused by her knowledge of Edgar Allen Poe.

She threw her chest out and swept her hand through the air as she cried, "-my brain reeled as I saw the mighty walls rushing asunder - something, something long, tumultuous shouting blah, blah, blah."

"God, I love you," he whispered. She yanked her head his way and he quickly cleared his throat. "I mean - what I said was - there's this party happening in the hills. Real basic shindig shit thrown by the Debate Club. I'm supposed to make a delivery and I was wondering if you'd want to, y'know, come."

"Cheesy pop music and sweat varsity guys? Count me in!"

"I'm just going to pretend you only care about one of those things." He grasped her hands and tugged her off of the floor. "Ready, my Lady Eleanoura?"

"Oh, don't fucking even." She threw her head back and laughed shamelessly. "That's some real weird shit."

They hopped in his van and drove the few scant miles to the Hawkins Hills. She draped her legs out the window and paddled them as they sang to the staticky radio, surprised by each other's knowledge of the Beatles. Eddie drove like a maniac and she loved it. She loved the way he took the bends at 80, the way that he shook his hair out when he hit a particularly high note, the cigarettes that they passed back and forth.

She would have been content to drive with him forever in that musty, beat-up van. But all too soon they arrived in the Hills. The party was being thrown in a squat, single-level house. Students from Hawkins High milled around the lawn carrying plastic cups, screaming along to the pop music or cozying up with each other in the darker corners of the property. They turned and stared in open horror as Tony and Eddie tumbled out of the van and crossed the lawn arm-linked-in arm. Any other time, their staring would have pissed Tony off. But, just then, she felt so sexy and glamorous with Eddie by her side, as if they were some strange and dangerous couple straight from a rock 'n roll magazine cover. He kissed her hand and then led her up the porch steps, into the house. Inside was just as sordid and depressing: students playing ping pong, a crowd of dancers wiggling their shoulders to the music blasting from the living room stereo, young women in heavy mascara leaning close to whisper as they watched Tony pass by. Eddie suddenly gasped and lunged away from her.

"Henderson!" He thundered loud enough to make the whole party wince. "What the hell are you doing here, man?"

A young man in a baseball hat turned around, his mouth held open and hand clutching a plastic cup. Tony had seen him before - he was the sweet, gap-toothed kid who sat at Eddie's table in the cafeteria. It was obvious from his expression that he had been caught in the act.

"Be right back, sweetheart," Eddie said, then pressed a swift kiss to her cheek. "Gotta go enforce bedtime."

"I can hear you, you know," Dustin called back. "I'm not a kid!"

"Yeah? Then why don't you come say that to my face!"

Tony laughed as Eddie tackled Dustin, right there in the kitchen. It was obvious that her party chaperone would be occupied for a while, so she slipped a soda can out of someone's hand and carried it up the staircase. There was no one that she knew well enough to chatty-chat with, so she leaned against the wall and simply watched the party unfold. A young man in a tiger-striped hat disentangled from the crowd and approached her. She had seen him around. He was one of Jason Carver's crew: a talk, lanky student with a head full of curly hair.

"Hey," he said as he approached her. "You're the new girl, right? Cute dress."

"Thanks," she said as she took a sip of soda. God, it was lukewarm and disappointing - just like his greeting. But he was cute, though, in a way. He placed his hand on the wall behind her and leaned forward.

"So you came here with The Freak, huh? You guys a thing now or what?"

"Freaky attracts freaky," she said just to tease him, just to play with him a little. And why not? It was a high school party, the first that she had ever been to. She was allowed to be a little flirtatious. Across the way, Eddie had actually lifted Dustin and was carrying him around like a sack of potatoes. The young man chuckled under his breath.

"You don't have to tell me," he said. "I could tell that you were freaky from a mile away. You've got that look about you, you know. All rebellious and hippie-like. I like that. I like that a lot. I'm Andy, by the way." He held his hand out, a real gentleman. "Friends call me Rand Andy."

"Excuse me but ew," she chuckled good-naturedly as she shook his hand. "That's a little too much information."

"You walk around frowning all the time. I guess I just wanted to make you laugh."

He really was tall, and the smell of his cologne was driving her crazy. She felt his eyes on her neck as she tossed her head back and swallowed the rest of her soda, considering her options. She was, technically, no longer married to Marshall even though the proper paperwork hadn't been exchanged. As of that night, she was a free woman and she was desperate to shrug off her shackles. Let go, fuck around, and find out what single living was truly like. Her gaze wandered back to Eddie. God, she wanted him badly but their relationship was still budding, still soft around the edges. In many ways, he still felt off-limits to her.

But Andy…he was nobody to her, just a stranger who had approached her in the crowd. It would be easy to forget him, and there would be no repercussions if things between them ended up awkward. Besides, she thought to herself as she gripped his hand and guided him up the stairs, maybe he could help her forget those uncontrollable and desperate feelings that she still felt for Eddie.

He pointed her towards a bedroom. The sounds of the party fell to a muffle as he closed the door behind him. She informed him that any funny business would not be tolerated, then pushed his varsity jacket away from his shoulders. Her heart thudded madly as he kissed her neck and trailed his hands along her body. Finally - finally - she had found herself that slice of feral high school energy. She felt like the glamorous, heavily lip-glossed star of some high school VHS tape as she pushed him onto the bed and straddled his waist. She closed her eyes as he slid the collar of her dress beneath her breasts and, for a brief and decadent moment, she imagined that he was Eddie. He fished a condom from his pocket and tugged the wrapper open with his teeth.

"God damn, you're pretty," he said as he reached between his legs. "Ready to get this party started, mon cherie?"

She paused. "What did you just say?"

"Mon Cherie." He winced as the band of the condom snapped around his dick. "Learned it in French class. It's s'posed to mean 'cutie' or something-"

"Shut up for a second."

She remembered Marshall calling her 'Mon Cherie' earlier that day. A lump rose in her throat as all the stupid nicknames that he had used flashed through her mind: compadre, mi amiga, Bonita. She couldn't help but wonder where he was at that moment, if he was sitting in front of their broken tv in the trailer eating Alfredo pasta that he had bought for her. She thought of his stupid pants and the way they rose along his ankle when he bent down. She thought of the terror in his voice and the way that he - a grown-ass man - had sniffled and gasped after she told him that she wanted a divorce. She didn't love him, of course, but she couldn't deny that she suddenly missed him. Marshall had been the only man that she had ever been with, the only man that claimed to know her instead of loving her.

She slid her leg off of Andy's hips and collapsed onto the side of the bed. She no longer wanted to be there with him. She wanted Eddie to bust through the door and say something utterly ridiculous to take her mind off of Marshall. She wanted to go back to the van and smoke and listen to the Beatles until the tears dried from her face. Andy leaned over the side of the bed and cleared his throat.

"Hey, uh-"

"I gotta go get some fresh air," she said. She jumped up and rushed out of the room, climbed the staircase until she reached the attic. Once there, she popped the window free of its rusted hinges and wriggled herself through. It was mercifully cool on the rooftop. The moon had only just risen in the sky, and the stars weren't yet visible beyond the thin wisps of clouds. She tucked her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs, suddenly the small, gray pebble again.

The window whined as it was pushed open again. She lifted her head and watched through narrowed eyes as Andy climbed onto the rooftop and lumbered towards her.

"Go the fuck away," she hissed. "I'm not interested in getting laid right now, alright?"

"That's not how this works."

She gasped as he slid his hands beneath her shoulders and lifted her. He wasn't as attractive up close. On the contrary, there was a wickedness in his expression that turned him glaringly ugly. He tried to force his lips against hers and she quickly turned her face away with a frown.

"Get off of me-"

"You can't just turn me on and run away," he said as he adjusted his hold on her. He was strong - but then again, all of the young men on the Hawkins High basketball team were. "That's called being a tease-"

"I'm allowed to revoke my consent, asshole." She lifted her hand to slap him and he quickly grabbed her wrist. "I swear to God, I will put you back in your place-"

"How?" Andy's nails dug into her skin. "Eddie the Freak isn't here to protect you-"

"Actually, he is."

They both turned to look at the man who had just appeared on the roof. They had been so busy arguing that they hadn't even heard him climb through the window. Eddie held his hand out in a placating gesture, his eyes bright and wide. Tony had never seen him look so serious before.

"I got this," she hissed from between clenched teeth. Andy gave her a single, reproachful shake and then pushed her away.

"Come to claim your property or what," Andy called to Eddie.

"She's not my property or yours for that matter. Hey, T," Eddie said, his unblinking eyes never leaving Andy's. "Just give me the word and I'll do whatever you say. Okay, sweetheart?"

She wasn't quite sure what he was asking permission for. She shoved past Andy and then was abruptly stopped with a hand on her shoulder. Eddie launched forward and grabbed her wrist.

"Let her go, man," Eddie warned.

"Or what," Andy parried, tightening his grip on her shoulder. "You gonna call your uncle from that trash heap of a trailer park to come get me? Ooh, I've been waiting a long time to fuck you up, freak."

"Yeah? Yeah? And is that what your daddy Jason told you to do? Come on, man. Walk away. We don't want any trouble."

The three of them fell still. Tony slipped her hand into her pocket, searching for her switchblade. Eddie shifted whatever he was holding behind his back. Andy popped the collar of his t-shirt and then bent his knees slightly.

"You asked for it, freak," he suddenly roared.

Tony cursed as Andy barreled for Eddie. In one swift movement, he had snatched him up by the collar and dragged him towards the ledge of the roof. Eddie's cheeks grew pale as Andy forced him back, closer and closer to the ledge until the heels of Eddie's boots were straddling it. Tony pulled her hands from her pocket and wrapped them around Andy's neck in a chokehold.

"Don't-" she sputtered, spit flying from her lips. "Hey - hey! Eddie, watch the ledge!"

"You don't want to do this, man," Eddie grunted at the same time. "Take it easy-!"

"Why," Andy said back. "No one's going to cry if Eddie 'the Freak' Munson had a little Humpty Dumpty and fell off the roof-"

Several things happened at once. Eddie threw himself forward as simultaneously Tony threw her weight back. For a moment, Andy was trapped between them: Eddie's arms wrapped around his waist and Tony's arms strangling his neck. For one, precarious moment, the three of them teetered along the edge of the roof. Then suddenly the weight shifted - she lost her grip on Andy. Eddie lunged towards her and pulled her back as Andy cartwheeled his arms, kicked his leg up in surprise-

-and then tumbled from the roof.

Tony and Eddie fell to a crouch and stared at each other. After a single, harrowing second they heard a 'thud' and then a scream from the lawn. Eddie thrust his thumb into his mouth and bit down hard on his nail, his face devoid of all color and eyes wild.

"Shit," he hissed in his high-pitched, slightly valley girl-esque tone of panic. "Shit, shit, shit!" Eddie whispered. "You think they saw us?"

"No one knew we were up here," she said, her voice shaky and deepened by fear.

"Yeah, but he could be dead, man! Fuck!"

"That's fine, that's fine. It's fine. One less witness, okay?"

"This isn't a fucking tv show!" Eddie punched the roof and then bit his knuckles. "What do we do? What do we do? What do we fucking do? Tony, I need you to say something! Anything! Come on, man! Fucking say something!"

"Snap out of it!" Tony slapped him with the back of her hand. "Cool it, Eddie! It was an accident. Or maybe it was self-defense, I don't know. We'll come up with something to tell the police."

"Yeah, okay, sure. Because they're going to take our word over a fucking varsity superstar! Fuck, man!"

They both heard it: another scream, and then a swell of voices in the yard. They slithered on their bellies until they could just barely see the yard below the ledge. A group of people had gathered around Andy's splayed and crooked body. Tony and Eddie quickly ducked away just as several people raised their heads to stare at the roof.

"Ooooh, I'm not good with this type of shit," Eddie sang in a sardonic falsetto. His foot began to bounce on the surface of the roof as he scooted back and tucked himself into a small ball. "Tony. T. Antoinette. I can't - I can't do this. If it goes on my record that I fucking killed a-"

Something occurred to Tony. The very thought of it filled her with resignation and weariness. She no longer had a choice in the matter - perhaps they had never had a choice all along. Ever since she had stepped foot in Hawkins, she had felt a particular tug and pull back towards her past as if somehow, someway, she would be forced to return to it one day. Resourcefulness required making those hard decisions. And, as she had often told Eddie, their resourcefulness had kept them alive.

She sighed, placed her hands upon her bent knees, then raised her head into the moonlight. Then so shall it be, she thought to herself tiredly.

"Eddie," she said in a calm, level voice. Police sirens blared in the distance. They would have to leave the rooftop immediately. But first, she needed to convince him of something. She took his cold, clammy hands and pressed them to her lips. "I need to find Andrea."