“Bette, you didn’t know she was talking about Shane, for all you knew she could have been talking about you,” Tina said. “No one could have known who she was referring to…”

“But, I knew,” Bette interrupted, “I did.”

“How?” Tina walked down a few steps and turned, her arms folded, “How do you know?” Bette sighed, “Because I watched my father send her away—to deal with it.”

“To deal with it, that’s what he said—and where did he send her?” Bette shrugged, “I don’t know where—I just know she left.”

“How old were you when this happened?”

“Eighteen—I was being sent to school, my father was busy making plans for the Spring…”

“So that’s how Melvin deals with problems, he just sends them away.” After a long pause, Tina continued, “You know, you were just a child then,” she said, “There wasn’t anything you could have done—even if you knew for sure.”

“Maybe not then, but, when she was dying…”

“No, don’t do that to yourself—don’t take on her regrets—their regrets. Shane came to you when she was supposed to. None of this is your fault.”

Tina walked back up the stairs and took a seat next to Bette. “How you managed to get through it all in one piece—it’s just beyond me.” Bette lifted her head, puzzled, “What do you mean?”

“Well, If you were eighteen at the time…that was the year…”

“Of your sixteenth birthday,” she interrupted, and Tina nodded, “The last time I saw you.”

After a moment, she said, “But, you found me,” and Tina sighed, “Oh, I’ll always find you.” Resting her chin on Bette’s shoulder and added, “And so will Shane. And if she doesn’t, well, we’ll find her.”

Shane quickly backed away and inspected the wall. She was shaking the can in her hand as she studied the lines and curves. “I thought graffiti was a fast art form.” She was startled at first, but her face cooled to a smile when Jenny came into the light. “How long have you been standing there,” she asked. “About an hour or so,” Jenny answered. “You’re using more color—I really like it.”