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“Then she told me, ‘I don’t even want to look at you. I love you but I just don’t like you right now.’ What does that even mean? I used to get all upset when she said that, but now I’m just… I’m just… ooh, I don’t even know anymore.” Miranda hugged herself and pouted angrily. “It wasn’t like I was lying to her. I was just… withholding information.”
  Her father tried not to laugh, but she looked too hilarious sitting there with her lower lip hanging out.
  “I’m glad you find this find this funny, but I don’t!”
  He tried to keep his laughter under control. “Don’t make that face and I won’t laugh at you.”
  “Oh. So now it’s my face you find funny? Thanks.”
  “Sweetie, stop. Your face is beautiful.” She raised her nose indignantly until he kissed her on the cheek. Miranda giggled.
  “There’s that smile.”
  She frowned again. “Your mustache tickled my face.”
  “Oh, I see.” He gave it a tug. “I knew there was a reason I kept it around.”
  “You’re dumb.”
  “Well, compared to you, maybe. I hear you’re doing really well in school. And now you’re some kind of hotshot in the firing range? I bet the boys are jealous.”
  “Kind of.”
  “Don’t get down on yourself. You’re a smart, talented girl.”
  “No. It’s not that. I guess. It’s just…” She didn’t want to mention the girls who picked on her or how she was afraid of some of the boys. “I miss Whitefield sometimes.” She twisted around the friendship bracelet her best friend Rebecca gave her. “I can’t even send letters anymore. There isn’t anyone who’ll take them.”
  “…I’m sorry. I didn’t really give you a choice coming here.”
  “It’s not your fault. I know you and mom were just doing what’s best for me.” She picked at the buttons on her jacket.
  For a few moments, they both sat in silence, eyes to the ground.
  “Miranda. I want you to do me a favor. I know you and your mother have been at odds lately, but I don’t want you to blame her for this. She didn’t want to leave either. I made her.”
  “You didn’t make her.”
  “Yes, I did. Your mother didn’t want to leave. If it wasn’t for the zombies getting onto our street… she would have picked you and Whitefield over heading out to the Community with me.”
  “…oh.”
  “I just don’t like to see you both fighting like this and know that it’s my fault. Your mother cares about you more than anything. I don’t want you to give her a hard time just because of something I made you both do.”
  “I understand.”
  “Good.” Miranda’s father kissed the top of her head. “Now let’s not talk about sad stuff. I need your help with work today.”
  Miranda’s head shot up.
  “Yeah?”
  “Yeah. I know you have a snow day…”
  “That’s okay! I can help!” Miranda beamed.
  “Let me finish, you!”
  “Sorry.”
  “I know you have a snow day, but I need some help delivering some medicine and supplies. It’ll keep you out of your mother’s hair for a little while, too. Think you can handle that?”
“Yeah!”
  “Good. “Maybe if you help out like this, I won’t have to stay late tonight. Donald says it’s supposed to snow heavier later tonight, so it’s probably better that way. I’m going to write up the first list of deliveries, okay? They’re all between here and the house, so I know you’ll be safe.”
  “I can go…! Never mind…”
  Miranda knew not to argue after what happened on Thanksgiving.
  “I know you can do it, marshmallow. I just want you to be safe, okay?”
  “Yeah.”
  “You have your knife? Whistle? Pepper spray?”
  “Yes. Yes. Yes.”
  He pulled up her hood and snapped together her face cover. “Okay. No matter what, just be safe. Medical supplies are better left unused, okay?”
  “I got it! I got it!” she grabbed the supply bag and list, springing toward the door.
  “Dad,” Miranda said, stopping at the door.
  “Yeah?”
  “I love you.” She hugged him quickly and ran off.

  “Oh, Miranda! What a pleasant surprise! You want to come in? You’ll catch a cold standing out there.”
  “Can’t today, Mr. Paulson. I’m making deliveries for Dad. Here’s your replacement band-aids you requested.”
  “Oh, bless you. And your father. I don’t know what I’d do without your family around. My own doctor ran up to Canada as soon as the ‘Z’ word started popping up. Don’t know what’s so good about Canada that we don’t have right here.”
  “Just watch out you don’t bump into anything again, Mr. Paulson. You’re not as young as you used to be.”
  "No, I suppose you’re right. Enjoy it while it lasts, kiddo. It goes by quick.”

  Next stop was the duplex where Austin and Lily lived. She had to deliver a pregnancy test to their parents of all things.
  “We checked on Pepper today!” Lily boasted.
  “We gave her an extra blanket.” Austin added. “She doesn’t look healthy.”
  “She always looks like that.” Lily rolled her eyes.
  Miranda cleared her throat. “Pepper’s lucky to have you guys taking care of her. Are your parents here?”
  “Austin’s parents are out.”
  “They’re your parents, too.”
  “They are not!”
  “Are too!”
  “Just because my parents are in Heaven, doesn’t mean they’re not my parents!” Lily was on the verge of tears.
  Miranda tried to keep from getting caught in the snow with two hysterical children. “C’mon you two. Don’t fight. I think it’s awesome that you have a four parents, Lily.”
  Lily paused. “Yeah?”
  “Oh, definitely! Some people only have two parents or one. But Austin’s parents love you like you’re their own daughter. Isn’t that right, Austin?”
  “Yeah! Definitely!” Austin’s head was a blur of nodding. “You’re like a big sister that God gave us.”
  “Miranda, you should be our sister, too!” Lily grinned, tugging on Miranda’s sleeve.
  “Yeah! You can be our big big sister!”
  “Oh, but I have parents already,” Miranda said.
  “But you can have two more like Lily does!”
  Miranda couldn’t see any other way out of this. “Okay. I’ll talk to Austin’s parents when I see them again. Maybe they’ll adopt me?”
  Lily and Austin looked into each other’s eyes, smiled, and jumped into the air with a simultaneous “Yaaaaaay!”
  Shortly after, Miranda got one of the other families living in the duplex to help pry the kids off of her. It would have been difficult to walk to the next home with those two attached to her legs.

            Miranda wondered if her dad was playing a prank on her or if he was just giving her all the jobs he was too embarrassed to do instead of the really important stuff. The last delivery was tampons. For the Riley twins.
  Penelope opened the door. Or maybe it was Priscilla.
  “What do you want?”
  “I’m here for a delivery. For my dad.”
  “Oh.”
  “It’s, uh… never mind. Here it is.”
  “Ugh. Your dad’s such a weirdo.”
  The other twin walked up to the door. “You’re letting the cold air in, Prissy! What is ‘zombie bait’ doing here?” Penny was kind of a bitch.
  “Apparently her daddy promoted her to delivery girl,” Priscilla said, feigning disinterest.
  Miranda could tolerate Prissy, but Penelope…
  “I’m going now. My dad’s probably waiting.”
  “Oh? He’s not lurking around tonight?” Penny smirked.
  “Oh yeah. What is up with that?” Prissy stuck her finger in her hair and twirled it into tight coils.
  Miranda knew she was getting lured into something unpleasant, but she took the bait anyway.
  “What are you talking about?”
  “He’s always walking around here late at night.”
  “He works late.”
  “Oh yeah? I guess the witch needs a lot of medicine, huh?”
  “What witch?” Miranda asked. “You mean Corpse Eater?”
  They looked at each other and laughed. “No way!” Penny snorted. “I don’t think your dad could possibly be that dumb.”
  “She was talking about the crazy lady who lives in the cottage past the church, not a real witch like Corpse Eater.” They giggled at                                     Miranda’s ignorance. They must have meant the place that all the kids avoided on Halloween.
  “Who is she?” Miranda asked, pretending not to hear what Penny suggested about her dad.
  “Who knows? She never leaves her house. But she seems to get a lot of attention from your dad.”
  “She must be really sick,” Miranda said.
  “Well, it’s been such a pleasure talking to you, Miranda, but I’m going to relax and enjoy my snow day. Thanks for the delivery.”
  Miranda let the door close in her face.

  “Welcome back! How’d the deliveries go?”
  “…fine.”
  “What happened?”
  “Nothing.”
  “Tell me. What’s wrong.”
  “Who is the witch who lives past the church?”
  “Witch?”
  “That’s what the kids call her. She stays in her house all the time. Is she sick?”
  “Oh… you must mean Eileen.” He scrunched up his face in a concentrated frown. She must have been really sick if Dad was this worried. “She’s not actually physically sick, but she does need some counseling. She has a lot of history here and people she’s lost.”
  “I still don’t understand why that makes her any different from the rest of us.”
  Her father drew in air through his teeth. “It’s not… so much that she’s different from everyone else in the Community. It’s more how she confronts her troubles than anything else… anyway, I wouldn’t worry about her.”
  “Okay.”
  “Good. I’m going to finish up and then we can go home. Okay, marshmallow?”
            “I’m going to leave ahead of you,” Miranda said, though it sounded almost like a question.
            “If that’s what you want to do. But promise me you’ll head straight home. I want you to be safe, not wandering out into the woods or anything. Straight home.”
            “I’m going to leave ahead of you,” Miranda said, though it sounded almost like a question.
            “Okay, but promise me you’ll head straight home.”
            “I will! I will! Geez.”
  “Thank you, sweetie.”
  Miranda hated lying to her dad. But if her parents trusted her more, then she wouldn’t have to lie to them.

  The snow was a light powder. It was beautiful to look at as it gently dusted the streets and her jacket with winter. But it also made her feet sink in past her ankles. This made it all the harder for Miranda to try to jog through the snow. She just ended up kicking it all over herself and, by the time she’d gotten to the church, she was completely out of breath. Doggedly, she trudged the rest of the way.
  The house itself would have been easy to miss if it wasn’t the only cottage on the entire street. Eileen must have lived in Gorham for a long time if she had a house as old as this one. Miranda tried to get a peek into the windows, but they were all covered from the inside with quilts and comforters.
  Everything around this house was quiet, to the point where Miranda began to wonder if there really was something wrong with this house. At one point, she thought she saw a spiked zombie in the distance, but it was only an evergreen shrub. She sprinted to the door and knocked. A few months ago, witches might have seemed scary to her. Now, she just wanted to get inside with a living person as quickly as possible.
  “I told John not to send anyone over here again,” the woman was not old or snaggle-toothed like Miranda had pictured. Rather, she looked like she was in her late twenties, a raven-haired beauty cocooned in robes and a blanket decorated with galloping horses. She also smelled like peaches.
  “I’m sorry to bother you, but—”
  “Look. I know you’re just doing what they told you to do, but I don’t want to waste either of our time. I’m not going to that God-forsaken church, and I’m definitely not going to donate any of my uncle’s possessions to you people.”
  “No! That’s not why I’m here.”
  “Well, then? Spit it out.”
  “Do you know Heath Audrey?”
  Her frowning face went from angry to worried in a blink.
  “Did something happen to Heath?”
  “No! Nothing! He’s my father.” Miranda’s teeth chattered from the cold mixed with her anxiety.
  Eileen’s worried frown stayed, but this time it looked more sad than fearful.
  “Come on in.”
  From the outside, Eileen’s home was plain and uninviting. On the inside, it was so full of old ajunk and knick knacks that it was hard to walk around. In the entryway, there was an opened box of Christmas ornaments even though she couldn’t see an actual Christmas tree anywhere. Dirty clothes sat in piles in corners of the room or were jammed into window sills to keep the frigid air from creeping in. Eileen cleared some papers and alcohol off the couch so that Miranda had a place to sit.
  “Sorry about the mess. Most of this stuff belonged to my aunt and uncle. Things keep crawling toward the door, but they never quite make it out.” She played with a little balancing fisherman for a moment before turning back toward Miranda. “Would you like some water? I might be able to make some tea, but…”
  “No. Water’s fine.”
  Miranda’s eyes traveled across the coffee stand at her knees. There was a candy dish full of cigarette butts, a lumpy mound of wax with a wick that was all but completely burnt out. And then there were piles upon piles of paper torn out of notebooks. Tiny handwriting filled every inch of each page, scrawling up and down the margins. She read one that was written in larger letters, like it was written quickly: “I overheard them saying that the Facility was burned up by hellfire. WRONG! It was people! It’s always people that murder and lie and cheat and steal! The Facility burned and Sodom and Gomorrah rose out of the ashes: a city for the dead and a city for the sinners waiting for death.”

  Another paper looked like it had a poem written in the corner:

  Blonde Angel
  Take me
  under your wing
  Fill me
  with your mercy

            For someone who didn’t want to go to church, Eileen seemed to write a lot about religious topics. Miranda wondered if she had something personal against Father John.
            “Honey, it’s better you don’t go through people’s personal stuff.” Eileen pushed some papers off from the table to make room for the water.
            “I’m sorry. It was just… there.”
            “It’s okay. What was your name again?”
            “It’s Miranda.”
            “Nice to meet you, Miranda. I’m Eileen. Though I guess you already knew that. What did your father say about me?”
            “He said that he’s treating you.”
            “Did he?” Eileen poured a splash of scotch. “What did he say? That I was sick.”
            Miranda wasn’t sure if she should tell Eileen what her father said. “Sort of…”
            “He said I was crazy.”
            Miranda looked intently into her water glass.
            Eileen nodded to herself. “I knew it. That jackass!” Eileen shouted. Miranda winced and looked to the front door. “Oh, no. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that in front of you.”
            “It’s okay.”
            “No, it’s not. You shouldn’t just accept when people wrong you, Miranda. People are terrible sinners. Your father is no different…”
            “What do you mean?”
            “When the Facility burned down, one of my uncle’s friends was among the mob. They murdered him just because of some false sense of righteousness. But the truth is, we all sin. The Community, they’re all a bunch of hypocrites building a city on top of a graveyard.”
            “What does this have to do with my father.”
            “Your father… it’s really not my place to say, hon.”
            “No! Please! Why does Dad come here all the time if he’s not treating you?”
            Eileen downed the scotch in a gulp and poured another shot for herself.
            “You already know what’s going on, Miranda. You’re just refusing to accept that your dad’s anything other than your dad. He’s also a man. A frail, imperfect man. They all are.”
            Eileen, the so-called crazy hermit witch lady, crossed her legs. They were shaved. The lips she raised her glass were red from lipstick. The air was thick with her peach perfume. She had been waiting for someone.
            “No,” Miranda stood up. “Dad would never. Dad would never!”
            If she had said anything, Miranda would have denied it and felt that she had defended her dad’s honor from her lies. But she didn’t say anything. She just smiled with her lipstick lips.
            “I’m leaving. Stop spreading lies about my dad!”
            Miranda waited again for Eileen to respond. She frowned this time, looking at Miranda like she was some kind of stray puppy. Miranda stomped out, her mind racing with furious thoughts the entire walk home.

            When Miranda got home, both her parents were waiting. The Jamesons were also playing a board game in the common area.
            “How could you lie to me again? And your father! What are we going to do with you? What are we going to do?”
            Miranda ignored her mother’s theatrics. She was used to them. It was her father who seemed like an alien.
            “Is it true?” she asked him. “About Eileen. Is it true?”
            “Is what true?” her father half-smiled.
            “Dad!”
            Miranda’s mother turned to him, taking her attention way from Miranda’s transgressions. “What is she talking about, Heath?”
            “Nothing. She’s an important client. That’s all.”
            “Dad!” Miranda barked. “She thinks you’re in love with her. That’s not true, right?”
            “Heath! What’s going on?”
            “Let’s go, girls,” Mrs. Jameson said. Jodie nodded but Katelyn lingered a moment before following.
            “Miranda. You go, too.” Her father pointed a finger to their bedroom.
            “But…!”
            “Miranda! Just go!” This time, it was her mother. She complied, though not without deliberate stomping, a dirty look, and a slammed door.
            Miranda paced around, kicking stuff in the room. Then she put her ear on the door. It was hard to hear them at first, but then her mom started yelling.
            “How long?! How long have you been fucking her!”
            …
            “A year?! God damn you! God damn you! I have done everything—sacrificed everything to be a good wife and a good mother! What was it for? Tell me! What was it for? Did you even think about us when we moved here, or did you just want to get closer to your whore?”
            …
            “I don’t even want to look at you right now! Get out! Get the fuck out!”
            Miranda bolted out of the room, running past her mother to catch up to her father.
            “Dad! Wait! Is it true?”
            If she said it was true, she’d believe him.
            “Go back inside, Miranda!”
            “Is it true?”
            If she had any sort of sign at all, she’d believe that Eileen was just a liar.
            “For once in your life, do what I tell you!”
            Her father had never snapped at her like that before. He was always the nice one, the one who listened and laughed and never yelled.
            “I hate you!” Miranda screamed, slamming the door twice before running to her bedroom and screaming at the top of her lungs, punching her pillow until it had deflated.
            When she’d finished venting, she went out to the dining area to check on her mother. She was sitting at her father’s place, sobbing into the tablecloth. Miranda paused, watching her mother cry, and she felt nothing. She walked over, hugged her mother as she sobbed into Miranda’s shirt.
            Miranda, however, was unable to shed any of her own tears. She just stood there, comforting her mother, not feeling a thing.

Description

“Then she told me, ‘I don’t even want to look at you. I love you but I just don’t like you right now.’ What does that even mean? I used to get all upset when she said that, but now I’m just… I’m just… ooh, I don’t even know anymore.” Miranda hugged herself and pouted angrily. “It wasn’t like I was lying to her. I was just… withholding information.”
  Her father tried not to laugh, but she looked too hilarious sitting there with her lower lip hanging out.
  “I’m glad you find this find this funny, but I don’t!”
  He tried to keep his laughter under control. “Don’t make that face and I won’t laugh at you.”
  “Oh. So now it’s my face you find funny? Thanks.”
  “Sweetie, stop. Your face is beautiful.” She raised her nose indignantly until he kissed her on the cheek. Miranda giggled.
  “There’s that smile.”
  She frowned again. “Your mustache tickled my face.”
  “Oh, I see.” He gave it a tug. “I knew there was a reason I kept it around.”
  “You’re dumb.”
  “Well, compared to you, maybe. I hear you’re doing really well in school. And now you’re some kind of hotshot in the firing range? I bet the boys are jealous.”
  “Kind of.”
  “Don’t get down on yourself. You’re a smart, talented girl.”
  “No. It’s not that. I guess. It’s just…” She didn’t want to mention the girls who picked on her or how she was afraid of some of the boys. “I miss Whitefield sometimes.” She twisted around the friendship bracelet her best friend Rebecca gave her. “I can’t even send letters anymore. There isn’t anyone who’ll take them.”
  “…I’m sorry. I didn’t really give you a choice coming here.”
  “It’s not your fault. I know you and mom were just doing what’s best for me.” She picked at the buttons on her jacket.
  For a few moments, they both sat in silence, eyes to the ground.
  “Miranda. I want you to do me a favor. I know you and your mother have been at odds lately, but I don’t want you to blame her for this. She didn’t want to leave either. I made her.”
  “You didn’t make her.”
  “Yes, I did. Your mother didn’t want to leave. If it wasn’t for the zombies getting onto our street… she would have picked you and Whitefield over heading out to the Community with me.”
  “…oh.”
  “I just don’t like to see you both fighting like this and know that it’s my fault. Your mother cares about you more than anything. I don’t want you to give her a hard time just because of something I made you both do.”
  “I understand.”
  “Good.” Miranda’s father kissed the top of her head. “Now let’s not talk about sad stuff. I need your help with work today.”
  Miranda’s head shot up.
  “Yeah?”
  “Yeah. I know you have a snow day…”
  “That’s okay! I can help!” Miranda beamed.
  “Let me finish, you!”
  “Sorry.”
  “I know you have a snow day, but I need some help delivering some medicine and supplies. It’ll keep you out of your mother’s hair for a little while, too. Think you can handle that?”
“Yeah!”
  “Good. “Maybe if you help out like this, I won’t have to stay late tonight. Donald says it’s supposed to snow heavier later tonight, so it’s probably better that way. I’m going to write up the first list of deliveries, okay? They’re all between here and the house, so I know you’ll be safe.”
  “I can go…! Never mind…”
  Miranda knew not to argue after what happened on Thanksgiving.
  “I know you can do it, marshmallow. I just want you to be safe, okay?”
  “Yeah.”
  “You have your knife? Whistle? Pepper spray?”
  “Yes. Yes. Yes.”
  He pulled up her hood and snapped together her face cover. “Okay. No matter what, just be safe. Medical supplies are better left unused, okay?”
  “I got it! I got it!” she grabbed the supply bag and list, springing toward the door.
  “Dad,” Miranda said, stopping at the door.
  “Yeah?”
  “I love you.” She hugged him quickly and ran off.

  “Oh, Miranda! What a pleasant surprise! You want to come in? You’ll catch a cold standing out there.”
  “Can’t today, Mr. Paulson. I’m making deliveries for Dad. Here’s your replacement band-aids you requested.”
  “Oh, bless you. And your father. I don’t know what I’d do without your family around. My own doctor ran up to Canada as soon as the ‘Z’ word started popping up. Don’t know what’s so good about Canada that we don’t have right here.”
  “Just watch out you don’t bump into anything again, Mr. Paulson. You’re not as young as you used to be.”
  "No, I suppose you’re right. Enjoy it while it lasts, kiddo. It goes by quick.”

  Next stop was the duplex where Austin and Lily lived. She had to deliver a pregnancy test to their parents of all things.
  “We checked on Pepper today!” Lily boasted.
  “We gave her an extra blanket.” Austin added. “She doesn’t look healthy.”
  “She always looks like that.” Lily rolled her eyes.
  Miranda cleared her throat. “Pepper’s lucky to have you guys taking care of her. Are your parents here?”
  “Austin’s parents are out.”
  “They’re your parents, too.”
  “They are not!”
  “Are too!”
  “Just because my parents are in Heaven, doesn’t mean they’re not my parents!” Lily was on the verge of tears.
  Miranda tried to keep from getting caught in the snow with two hysterical children. “C’mon you two. Don’t fight. I think it’s awesome that you have a four parents, Lily.”
  Lily paused. “Yeah?”
  “Oh, definitely! Some people only have two parents or one. But Austin’s parents love you like you’re their own daughter. Isn’t that right, Austin?”
  “Yeah! Definitely!” Austin’s head was a blur of nodding. “You’re like a big sister that God gave us.”
  “Miranda, you should be our sister, too!” Lily grinned, tugging on Miranda’s sleeve.
  “Yeah! You can be our big big sister!”
  “Oh, but I have parents already,” Miranda said.
  “But you can have two more like Lily does!”
  Miranda couldn’t see any other way out of this. “Okay. I’ll talk to Austin’s parents when I see them again. Maybe they’ll adopt me?”
  Lily and Austin looked into each other’s eyes, smiled, and jumped into the air with a simultaneous “Yaaaaaay!”
  Shortly after, Miranda got one of the other families living in the duplex to help pry the kids off of her. It would have been difficult to walk to the next home with those two attached to her legs.

            Miranda wondered if her dad was playing a prank on her or if he was just giving her all the jobs he was too embarrassed to do instead of the really important stuff. The last delivery was tampons. For the Riley twins.
  Penelope opened the door. Or maybe it was Priscilla.
  “What do you want?”
  “I’m here for a delivery. For my dad.”
  “Oh.”
  “It’s, uh… never mind. Here it is.”
  “Ugh. Your dad’s such a weirdo.”
  The other twin walked up to the door. “You’re letting the cold air in, Prissy! What is ‘zombie bait’ doing here?” Penny was kind of a bitch.
  “Apparently her daddy promoted her to delivery girl,” Priscilla said, feigning disinterest.
  Miranda could tolerate Prissy, but Penelope…
  “I’m going now. My dad’s probably waiting.”
  “Oh? He’s not lurking around tonight?” Penny smirked.
  “Oh yeah. What is up with that?” Prissy stuck her finger in her hair and twirled it into tight coils.
  Miranda knew she was getting lured into something unpleasant, but she took the bait anyway.
  “What are you talking about?”
  “He’s always walking around here late at night.”
  “He works late.”
  “Oh yeah? I guess the witch needs a lot of medicine, huh?”
  “What witch?” Miranda asked. “You mean Corpse Eater?”
  They looked at each other and laughed. “No way!” Penny snorted. “I don’t think your dad could possibly be that dumb.”
  “She was talking about the crazy lady who lives in the cottage past the church, not a real witch like Corpse Eater.” They giggled at                                     Miranda’s ignorance. They must have meant the place that all the kids avoided on Halloween.
  “Who is she?” Miranda asked, pretending not to hear what Penny suggested about her dad.
  “Who knows? She never leaves her house. But she seems to get a lot of attention from your dad.”
  “She must be really sick,” Miranda said.
  “Well, it’s been such a pleasure talking to you, Miranda, but I’m going to relax and enjoy my snow day. Thanks for the delivery.”
  Miranda let the door close in her face.

  “Welcome back! How’d the deliveries go?”
  “…fine.”
  “What happened?”
  “Nothing.”
  “Tell me. What’s wrong.”
  “Who is the witch who lives past the church?”
  “Witch?”
  “That’s what the kids call her. She stays in her house all the time. Is she sick?”
  “Oh… you must mean Eileen.” He scrunched up his face in a concentrated frown. She must have been really sick if Dad was this worried. “She’s not actually physically sick, but she does need some counseling. She has a lot of history here and people she’s lost.”
  “I still don’t understand why that makes her any different from the rest of us.”
  Her father drew in air through his teeth. “It’s not… so much that she’s different from everyone else in the Community. It’s more how she confronts her troubles than anything else… anyway, I wouldn’t worry about her.”
  “Okay.”
  “Good. I’m going to finish up and then we can go home. Okay, marshmallow?”
            “I’m going to leave ahead of you,” Miranda said, though it sounded almost like a question.
            “If that’s what you want to do. But promise me you’ll head straight home. I want you to be safe, not wandering out into the woods or anything. Straight home.”
            “I’m going to leave ahead of you,” Miranda said, though it sounded almost like a question.
            “Okay, but promise me you’ll head straight home.”
            “I will! I will! Geez.”
  “Thank you, sweetie.”
  Miranda hated lying to her dad. But if her parents trusted her more, then she wouldn’t have to lie to them.

  The snow was a light powder. It was beautiful to look at as it gently dusted the streets and her jacket with winter. But it also made her feet sink in past her ankles. This made it all the harder for Miranda to try to jog through the snow. She just ended up kicking it all over herself and, by the time she’d gotten to the church, she was completely out of breath. Doggedly, she trudged the rest of the way.
  The house itself would have been easy to miss if it wasn’t the only cottage on the entire street. Eileen must have lived in Gorham for a long time if she had a house as old as this one. Miranda tried to get a peek into the windows, but they were all covered from the inside with quilts and comforters.
  Everything around this house was quiet, to the point where Miranda began to wonder if there really was something wrong with this house. At one point, she thought she saw a spiked zombie in the distance, but it was only an evergreen shrub. She sprinted to the door and knocked. A few months ago, witches might have seemed scary to her. Now, she just wanted to get inside with a living person as quickly as possible.
  “I told John not to send anyone over here again,” the woman was not old or snaggle-toothed like Miranda had pictured. Rather, she looked like she was in her late twenties, a raven-haired beauty cocooned in robes and a blanket decorated with galloping horses. She also smelled like peaches.
  “I’m sorry to bother you, but—”
  “Look. I know you’re just doing what they told you to do, but I don’t want to waste either of our time. I’m not going to that God-forsaken church, and I’m definitely not going to donate any of my uncle’s possessions to you people.”
  “No! That’s not why I’m here.”
  “Well, then? Spit it out.”
  “Do you know Heath Audrey?”
  Her frowning face went from angry to worried in a blink.
  “Did something happen to Heath?”
  “No! Nothing! He’s my father.” Miranda’s teeth chattered from the cold mixed with her anxiety.
  Eileen’s worried frown stayed, but this time it looked more sad than fearful.
  “Come on in.”
  From the outside, Eileen’s home was plain and uninviting. On the inside, it was so full of old ajunk and knick knacks that it was hard to walk around. In the entryway, there was an opened box of Christmas ornaments even though she couldn’t see an actual Christmas tree anywhere. Dirty clothes sat in piles in corners of the room or were jammed into window sills to keep the frigid air from creeping in. Eileen cleared some papers and alcohol off the couch so that Miranda had a place to sit.
  “Sorry about the mess. Most of this stuff belonged to my aunt and uncle. Things keep crawling toward the door, but they never quite make it out.” She played with a little balancing fisherman for a moment before turning back toward Miranda. “Would you like some water? I might be able to make some tea, but…”
  “No. Water’s fine.”
  Miranda’s eyes traveled across the coffee stand at her knees. There was a candy dish full of cigarette butts, a lumpy mound of wax with a wick that was all but completely burnt out. And then there were piles upon piles of paper torn out of notebooks. Tiny handwriting filled every inch of each page, scrawling up and down the margins. She read one that was written in larger letters, like it was written quickly: “I overheard them saying that the Facility was burned up by hellfire. WRONG! It was people! It’s always people that murder and lie and cheat and steal! The Facility burned and Sodom and Gomorrah rose out of the ashes: a city for the dead and a city for the sinners waiting for death.”

  Another paper looked like it had a poem written in the corner:

  Blonde Angel
  Take me
  under your wing
  Fill me
  with your mercy

            For someone who didn’t want to go to church, Eileen seemed to write a lot about religious topics. Miranda wondered if she had something personal against Father John.
            “Honey, it’s better you don’t go through people’s personal stuff.” Eileen pushed some papers off from the table to make room for the water.
            “I’m sorry. It was just… there.”
            “It’s okay. What was your name again?”
            “It’s Miranda.”
            “Nice to meet you, Miranda. I’m Eileen. Though I guess you already knew that. What did your father say about me?”
            “He said that he’s treating you.”
            “Did he?” Eileen poured a splash of scotch. “What did he say? That I was sick.”
            Miranda wasn’t sure if she should tell Eileen what her father said. “Sort of…”
            “He said I was crazy.”
            Miranda looked intently into her water glass.
            Eileen nodded to herself. “I knew it. That jackass!” Eileen shouted. Miranda winced and looked to the front door. “Oh, no. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that in front of you.”
            “It’s okay.”
            “No, it’s not. You shouldn’t just accept when people wrong you, Miranda. People are terrible sinners. Your father is no different…”
            “What do you mean?”
            “When the Facility burned down, one of my uncle’s friends was among the mob. They murdered him just because of some false sense of righteousness. But the truth is, we all sin. The Community, they’re all a bunch of hypocrites building a city on top of a graveyard.”
            “What does this have to do with my father.”
            “Your father… it’s really not my place to say, hon.”
            “No! Please! Why does Dad come here all the time if he’s not treating you?”
            Eileen downed the scotch in a gulp and poured another shot for herself.
            “You already know what’s going on, Miranda. You’re just refusing to accept that your dad’s anything other than your dad. He’s also a man. A frail, imperfect man. They all are.”
            Eileen, the so-called crazy hermit witch lady, crossed her legs. They were shaved. The lips she raised her glass were red from lipstick. The air was thick with her peach perfume. She had been waiting for someone.
            “No,” Miranda stood up. “Dad would never. Dad would never!”
            If she had said anything, Miranda would have denied it and felt that she had defended her dad’s honor from her lies. But she didn’t say anything. She just smiled with her lipstick lips.
            “I’m leaving. Stop spreading lies about my dad!”
            Miranda waited again for Eileen to respond. She frowned this time, looking at Miranda like she was some kind of stray puppy. Miranda stomped out, her mind racing with furious thoughts the entire walk home.

            When Miranda got home, both her parents were waiting. The Jamesons were also playing a board game in the common area.
            “How could you lie to me again? And your father! What are we going to do with you? What are we going to do?”
            Miranda ignored her mother’s theatrics. She was used to them. It was her father who seemed like an alien.
            “Is it true?” she asked him. “About Eileen. Is it true?”
            “Is what true?” her father half-smiled.
            “Dad!”
            Miranda’s mother turned to him, taking her attention way from Miranda’s transgressions. “What is she talking about, Heath?”
            “Nothing. She’s an important client. That’s all.”
            “Dad!” Miranda barked. “She thinks you’re in love with her. That’s not true, right?”
            “Heath! What’s going on?”
            “Let’s go, girls,” Mrs. Jameson said. Jodie nodded but Katelyn lingered a moment before following.
            “Miranda. You go, too.” Her father pointed a finger to their bedroom.
            “But…!”
            “Miranda! Just go!” This time, it was her mother. She complied, though not without deliberate stomping, a dirty look, and a slammed door.
            Miranda paced around, kicking stuff in the room. Then she put her ear on the door. It was hard to hear them at first, but then her mom started yelling.
            “How long?! How long have you been fucking her!”
            …
            “A year?! God damn you! God damn you! I have done everything—sacrificed everything to be a good wife and a good mother! What was it for? Tell me! What was it for? Did you even think about us when we moved here, or did you just want to get closer to your whore?”
            …
            “I don’t even want to look at you right now! Get out! Get the fuck out!”
            Miranda bolted out of the room, running past her mother to catch up to her father.
            “Dad! Wait! Is it true?”
            If she said it was true, she’d believe him.
            “Go back inside, Miranda!”
            “Is it true?”
            If she had any sort of sign at all, she’d believe that Eileen was just a liar.
            “For once in your life, do what I tell you!”
            Her father had never snapped at her like that before. He was always the nice one, the one who listened and laughed and never yelled.
            “I hate you!” Miranda screamed, slamming the door twice before running to her bedroom and screaming at the top of her lungs, punching her pillow until it had deflated.
            When she’d finished venting, she went out to the dining area to check on her mother. She was sitting at her father’s place, sobbing into the tablecloth. Miranda paused, watching her mother cry, and she felt nothing. She walked over, hugged her mother as she sobbed into Miranda’s shirt.
            Miranda, however, was unable to shed any of her own tears. She just stood there, comforting her mother, not feeling a thing.