The Lost & Found by Katrina Leno

should really alert the proper authorities. Man with a handkerchief and running shoes, undoubtedly up to no good.”
    â€œOh. You’re mocking me now.”
    â€œYes,” Arrow said. “I am mocking you. You are being easily mockable.”
    â€œGreat. I get it.”
    â€œHank Whitney is nice,” Arrow said, shrugging.
    â€œWhat?” I said. “Oh my God, do you love him?”
    â€œYes, I love him. We’ve been having a secret romance. It’s all very clandestine.”
    â€œWell, you think he’s cute. You’re kind of blushing.”
    â€œI don’t
blush
,” Arrow said, like it was something distasteful. “He’s a nice guy, I’m just not really interested in anything like that right now.”
    Arrow had never really been interested in anything like that. I guess I hadn’t either. It had never seemed important.
    And then when I
did
get the inclination, he ended up living across the country from me.
    Which didn’t seem all that fair.
    Silence. The dusty glow from the streetlights and the buzz of mosquitoes and moths. I was dive-bombed by a smallflock of no-see-ums. My hands and knees were burning. I wondered if someday I would wake up just knowing how to be a decent, productive member of society. I wondered if someday all of this would make sense to me. Everything that had happened. Everything my parents did. I wondered why my grandparents lied to me. I wondered if their excuse was good enough. If they deserved my forgiveness. I wondered whether I would have been better off finding an actual black widow spider in my mailbox. One quick bite and then one long paralyzing rush of poison and they’d find me beyond help. Already dead on the driveway.
    â€œFrannie?” Arrow said.
    â€œYeah?”
    â€œAre you going into shock? From loss of blood?”
    â€œOh. I don’t think so. It’s mostly stopped.”
    â€œThat was super graceful, by the way.”
    â€œI was scared. I thought we were about to be murdered.”
    â€œSeventy-five percent of murder victims have a relationship with their killer. So I am much more likely to murder you than Hank Whitney. And Hank Whitney is much more likely to murder me than you.”
    â€œWhen you put it that way,” I said.
    â€œAnd of that seventy-five percent, nearly thirty percent are family members,” she continued.
    â€œSo what you’re saying is, I’m actually lucky my mother is dead? Because that lowers my risk of being murdered?”
    We had reached my front steps. Arrow sat down heavily, sighing as she did.
    â€œThat’s terrible, Frannie. That’s not what I meant at all.”
    I sat down beside her. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”
    â€œYou’re deflecting,” Arrow said. “You’re using humor to distract yourself from the mourning process.”
    â€œDid you hear that on TV?”
    Arrow shrugged. “It makes a lot of sense.”
    The door opened behind us, and Grandma Doris poked her head outside.
    â€œGirls? Is that you? Frannie? Are you bleeding?”
    â€œJogging accident,” I said, showing her my battle wounds.
    â€œWell, you better use some antibiotic ointment. And give them a good wash. Dinner’s ready. Arrow, of course you’re more than welcome.”
    Grandma Doris shut the door.
    â€œWhat do you know about Texas?” I asked her.
    â€œWallace Green?” she said.
    â€œWallace Green.”
    â€œDo you think . . .” She trailed off, but I knew what she was going to ask. Did I really think there was a chance Wallace Green could be my father?
    â€œI don’t know,” I said.
    â€œSo why do you want to go?”
    â€œWell, I’m not sure if I want to go. But if I
did
want togo . . . it wouldn’t be for him. It would be for her. She asked me to find him, you know. In her last letter.”
    â€œI know,” Arrow said.