68.

We haven’t been home

even

five minutes

when Momma

starts to work.

She tears our room up good

looking for that diary.

I help her go through

our bedroom things.

My mouth is

dry, watching.

Will Momma find it?

Will she?

Momma throws Liz’s stuff

this way and that.

Help me look now, girl,

Momma says.

And I do, though

I don’t want to, I pull books

outta the bookcase and

stuff from Liz’s little

nightstand.

It’s gotta be here somewhere,

Momma says once

and I can see she’s madder

than a snake.

When she’s tired from searching

she looks at me

and says, loud,

Get this mess cleaned up.

And I do as fast as I can.