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I asked if she had seen my orange tank top and she said, No, I haven't, is it in the laundry room? seeming very concerned about said tank top -- but I knew I would find it weeks later while looking for bobby pins in her room, there shoved between her bed and the blue wall, my orange tank top. I'd shake it out and put it on and swallow my fists pounding reach from my arms (walls to thick to smash through) and pluck one earring from her jewelry box. Back to my room, toss it in the trash. The next day, me in my orange tank top, she pretending emphatic happiness at my discovery and wondering when she'd find her missing earring and already planning which item of my clothing would best fit in that now empty spot between the bed and the blue wall.