Me, I didn’t feel any loyalty toward my parents – or anything, really – one way or another. I didn’t remember them at all. I think Matt resented me for that, too. Stupid of him – as if it was my fault our parents died before I even knew either one of them well enough to remember them.

Sometimes, I can almost see a fleeting shadowy shape that I think is my mother. It usually happens when I’m trying to fall asleep, and can’t, for a myriad of trivial reasons. I’ll close my eyes and picture this silhouetted shape of a woman’s face; her hair is pulled up into a loose bun, and I can see – or maybe just sense – a tender smile. I get the sensation that I’m looking up at this face; maybe it’s my mother looking down at me in my crib? No…the very thought is ridiculous. There’s no way I could remember anything that far back, not that clearly. Still , I hold on to those little visuals whenever they pop up; it’s a fleeting thing, but it’s the most tangible evidence – other than actual photographs – that I have to prove to myself that I once had a mother.