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"Nudge, for the last time, give this up. This is a bad idea," said Fang. " A terrible idea."

Privately, Nudge was surprised that Fang was still with her. Fang had threatened to leave her several times, but when he saw she really wouldn't budge, he'd retreated into angry silence.

Now they were at the edge of the trailer home neighborhood. Nudge had remembered an address, and Tipisco was so small that it wasn't hard to get around and find it. She didn't know what she had expected, but somehow this wasn't it.

The trailer park was divided into meandering rows, most marked by rickety wooden signs with names like Roadrunner Lane or Seguro Street on them.

"Come on," Fang said softly. "I see Chaparral Court."

They snaked their way through the chokecherry bushes, gnarled junipers, abandoned appliances, and car skeletons that surrounded the neighborhood. No white picket fences anywhere.

Nudge's quick eyes spotted the address, 4625, on the last mobile home of the line. She swallowed. Her parents could be right there. She pushed aside some spray paint cans, and she and Fang crouched beside an abandoned, graffitied car.

"What if they moved?" Fang asked for the nth time. "What if you misunderstood what you read an these people aren't related to you at all?" Then, with horrible gentleness, he said, "Nudge, even if you weren't a test-tube baby - which you probably were - what if there was a reason they gave you up? They might not want you back?"

"Do you think I haven't thought of that?" she whispered with uncharacteristic anger. "I know that! But I have to try. I mean, if there's the slightest chance - wouldn't you try?"

"I don't know," Fang said after a pause.

"That's because you don't need anything or anybody." Nudge said, turning back to stare at the mobile home. "But I'm not like that. I need people."

Fang was silent.

They were fairly out of sight between the car and some small pinyon trees. Nudge felt so nervous she was practically shaking.

Beside her, Fang tensed, and then Nudge heard a door opening. She held her breath as a woman came out of the mobile home. Nudge quickly looked at her own arm to see if her skin tones matched. Kind of. It was hard to tell. The woman came down into the front yard, which was covered in brown pine needles, and sat down in a cheap lawn chair in the shade.

Her hair was wet and in curlers, and there was a towel draped around her shoulders. She leaned back, lit a cigarette, and popped the top off a can of soda.

"Coke. It's not just for breakfast anymore," Fang whispered, and Nudge elbowed him.

Hmm. Nudge sat back on her heels. It was weird. Part of her hoped that wasn't her mom. It would have been better if she'd been, like, setting a tray of cookies on the windowsill to cool or gardening or something. Something mommish. But part of her still hoped it was her mom, because, frankly, someone, anyone was better than no one.

Nudge just needed to get up, stroll over there, and say, "Um, did you lose a daughter named Monique, about ten, eleven years ago?" Yep, that's all she had to say. And then then the woman would say -

"Looking for something freaks? Guess you found it."

There was no mistaking that beautiful, melodic Eraser laugh, right behind them.

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