eight and they were over it.”
I laughed but Inara didn’t. She set her glass of juice down and took my hand. I studied her ragged nails, my throat burning and the back of my eyes stinging. “Esther never gave them any trouble. She was three years younger than me and she… she was so kind. To everyone. It didn’t matter if you were a lower or a middle or whatever… Esther treated everyone the same. She was only twelve when she died but she already knew that she wanted to go into social work and try and help the lower kids.”
“She sounds lovely,” Inara said.
“She was. She had bone cancer,” I said.
“I’m so sorry.”
“Me too. My parents didn’t make much. We were,” I laughed bitterly, “middles but just barely. Enough money to live in a small house in the suburbs but not enough money to buy the amount of gallberry juice Esther needed. By the time we found out she had cancer, it was all through her bones. They did chemo – my dad had health insurance through work – but everyone knew it wasn’t going to cure her. They were just doing it to buy Esther some time while my parents tried to figure out a way to buy enough gallberry juice on the black market. They figured out a way to get the juice, but it fell through.”
“I’m sorry it didn’t work,” Inara said.
“It was my fault.” My voice was dull, like a chef’s blade long since forgotten in the back of a drawer.
“What do you mean?” Inara said.
“It was my fault their plan didn’t work. I-I messed it up and Esther died because of me.”
Inara squeezed my hand. “I’m sure that’s not true. You were only fifteen, what could you have possibly done to mess it up?”
Ukana. Ukana. Ukana.
The words echoed in my head and I winced. Every time I heard those words, I saw Esther’s pale, thin face and her cancer ravaged body.
“I just did,” I said. I couldn’t tell Inara the reason why, it was too shameful. Besides, she wouldn’t understand. To the Draax, Inara was beautiful. If it had been her standing in that room in her mother’s best dress and heels that made her wobble, the Draax wouldn’t have turned her away. They would have handed over the juice and Esther would have lived.
“How?” Inara said.
I shook my head and swiped at the stupid tears running down my cheeks. “It doesn’t matter. It was my fault and Esther died and my parents they… they hated me after that. They tried to pretend they didn’t blame me for her death, but they did. I could see it in the way they looked at me… or rather, didn’t look at me. One night, my mom, she... she had too much to drink and she told me that she wished it’d been me who’d gotten cancer, instead of Esther.”
“Oh, Ellis,” Inara said. A tear slipped down her cheek to darken the front of her shirt. “Honey, I’m so sorry. She should never have said that.”
I shrugged. “She was right. It should have been me. Esther was good and pure and didn’t deserve to die of cancer.”
“You don’t deserve it either,” Inara said. “No one does.”
We were still holding hands and I gave hers a brief squeeze before releasing it. “Anyway, I packed a bag and left home that night after my parents had gone to bed. I haven’t seen them since.”
“How old were you?”
“Sixteen,” I said.
“They didn’t try to find you?” Inara said.
“No. I was on my dad’s PAR plan and they never called or hologrammed me. At the end of the month, I lost access to the internet and my phone was disconnected. My dad took me off the family plan.” This time my laugh wasn’t even bitter. It was kind of funny when you really thought about it.
“Unfuckingbelievable,” Inara said. “What is wrong with them?”
“They were both in bad places,” I said. “Esther was their world.”
“You were their daughter too,” she said. “Where did you go after that?”
“I thought I could stay with a friend, but her mother kicked me out after a few days. I’ve been living on the street since then.”
“Holy shit,” Inara said. “I can’t believe you survived for seven years on the street. How did you make money to eat… where did you sleep?”
“I slept in homeless shelters if they weren’t full and alleys if they were,” I said. “It was only really bad in the winter. I made some