Stranger in the Room: A Novel by Amanda Kyle Williams

easier with a white child. She said it was Dad’s fault. I always assumed from that conversation that something in his past put them out of the running. Everybody knows the paperwork got a little fuzzy back then on kids with alternate ethnicities. They were practically begging people to take us and make room for white children who were actually considered adoptable.”
    “But then they adopted Jimmy,” Miki pointed out.
    “Yeah, well, maybe it’s like adopting a shelter pet. It changes you. Once you’ve seen the need, you don’t go back to a breeder. My parents are decent people. My father has this huge sense of social responsibility. Plus, they’d always wanted a boy and a girl. I wanted to run the records on my dad when I was at the Bureau, but you can’t do that unless it’s tied to an investigation. Every request for sealed records has to be explained. It’s not something they take lightly. And, to be honest, I’ve always been a little afraid of finding out the truth.”
    Miki used her fork to stab the cake. Gooey dark chocolate ran across the plate. “Does it really matter?”
    “No. Not anymore.”
    Miki touched my hand. “I can’t imagine growing up without you and Jimmy.”
    I liked my cousin. I always seemed to forget this during the long stretches between our visits. I liked her sober. Not so much last night. I’d had enough drama in my life. I’d avoided hers. Maybe I hadn’t been there when she’d needed family. Miki’s mother had been institutionalized for years. Her father was dead. Jimmy and I and our parents were what she had left. She was right: We’d been close as kids.
    I thought again about Miki going shopping, then ordering food. Or not ordering food. Or not remembering that she’d ordered food. And not answering her phone. I thought about the cuts up and down herarms and the unsettling darkness inside her. I thought about how confrontational and defensive she’d been at the bar last night. Creeklaw County and the counterfeit urn were starting to sound pretty good.
    “Thanks for taking care of me last night.” Miki must have seen something in my face. “I was pretty shaky. And I got a little drunk.”
    “Understandable.”
    “I’m sorry I’m still here, Keye. I’m sorry I’m wearing your clothes.”
    I loaded my fork with chocolate cake. “You should be. You’ve got camel toe really bad.”
    She laughed. “I promise I’ll go home tomorrow. I’ve just got the creeps right now. I need a day.”
    “It’s okay. You’re family.” I remembered staying in her house when mine was unlivable because of construction. She had handed her keys over without a second thought.
    I felt White Trash weaving around the stool legs. She was as accomplished as any beggar I’d ever met on Peachtree Street. I picked a piece of feta out of the salad and dropped it for her. “Listen, I have a job up in Big Knob, so if you want the place to yourself for a couple of days, it’s all yours.”
    “Big Knob?”
    “I know, right? I’ll have Mom come by and take care of White Trash.”
    “Are you kidding? I can take care of White Trash. We’re buds.”
    “I mean
really
take care of her.”
    “I grew up with cats and dogs just like you did, Keye. I know how to take care of them.”
    “She has a litterbox and she needs fresh water and food and stuff.”
    “Oh really. Well, the deal’s off, then,” Miki said. “I get it. You think I’m a drug addict. And flaky. Anything else?”
    “I think you might be an alcoholic,” I said. I didn’t feel like pulling the punch. And I sure as shit was not going to leave my cat with someone I couldn’t trust. I’d found White Trash having breakfast in a garbage bin on Peachtree Street when I’d first moved into the Georgian, half starved, covered with all forms of parasite, half wild and extremely unappreciative of my efforts. But she’d warmed up very quickly to regular meals and human attention. New people still scareher at first, as do