She never knew the comfort of home. Living her life from the backseat of a van, she and her mother would always be on the move to the next job in the next town in the next vacant parking lot until they were told to move again.

Sinks were as good as showers, mats fashioned from cardboard were as good as beds, dry packs of ramen were as good as steak. They had to be, for that was all she had.

Now, she lived on a lonely island of false joy. She thought of the gray boy. Was he happy?