I slip the key into the lock.
Marla says, Where are we?
Home, I say,
switching on the lights,
the white hallway
tinted green from the lightshade.
Marla blinks at me,
blank.
Toffee, I remind her.
I want someone else. Who do I want?
She traces a wonky line
in the woodchip wallpaper
with her fingernail.
You don’t want me here? I ask.
I want to know the answer.
Tears pool in the corner of her eyes.
I do, she says.
But I want someone else too.