Pa used to smoke. I remember mama always telling him to put it out, 'specially round us kids, but sometimes he wouldn't listen. Like after he had too many beers. I guess I end up watching the cigarette too close, because I almost miss the question that she asks. I look down at my letter again. I should finish it.

But it's rude to ignore someone.

"James," I murmur, so soft that I dunno if she hears it or not. Before I know it, my feet are kicking the step again.