Casper smells nice. She’s always clean, her clothes rustle softly. She never raises her voice. She rubs Sasha’s back when she sobs so hard she chokes. She positions her arms around Linda/Katie/Cuddles like a goalie or something when one of the bad people breaks free. I’ve seen her in Blue’s room, even, on the days Blue gets an enormous box of books from her mother, pawing through the paperbacks and smiling at Blue. I’ve seen Blue melt a little, just a little, at this smile.
Casper should be someone’s mother. She should be my mother.
