They had fully planned to take Lily out of the state for good, with a brand-new wardrobe.

Then Tuesday afternoon came.

Lily cried loudly behind the patio door.

She became too noisy, too inconvenient, and too much real work for a tropical vacation.

They packed her pink bag, hid it in a rented room in Norfolk, and then left her behind on the couch to starve.

“Because she cried,” I said.

“Because she wanted her mother.”

I zipped the pink suitcase shut.