The sadness in her voice telling me that she meant it. I cursed the fact that I changed out of my uniform at the station house; if I'd still been wear...ng it I would have had my walkie-talkie. "Can I ask you you're name?" I said, hoping she was at least willing to talk. "My real name," She asked with a smile, "or what I'm called now?" What in god's name was that supposed to mean? "Whichever, I just want to know what I should call you." "I don't know my real name," she replied, and I could see. Anyway, by the time we got home I was bawling like a baby, but I didn't feel bad; I was just working out all my feelings about my Mom. For the first time, I allowed myself to admit how sad I was and how much I really missed her.And Aunt Sandy didn't say much; she didn't have to. Mostly she just murmured every once in a while, or offered me a tissue.Mark and Willie were staying over at a friend's house that night, so we got back to an empty house. Aunt Sandy said it hardly seemed worth cooking. More

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