Blackfeather Woods thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead are driven

She always thought that when this day came, she'd be like Zephyr.  She'd told an old boyfriend that one day, her mom was going to die and she wasn't going to feel bad, and at the time she thought it was sad.  Ha, she says flatly, weakly, her legs trembling beneath the metaphorical weight on her shoulders.  Goodbye ma, goodbye pop.  Did this mean she was an orphan?  The word struck her and tears sprung to her eyes, though she did her best to blink them away before they could fall. 

I'm sorry, she says, before she is suddenly overcome with the urge to speak because if she doesn't speak she's going to cry and I don't know what for.  That you had to see that.  That it happened.  I don't — 

Nobody ever taught her how to act and now they never would, poor girl.  She feels distinctly robbed, though when she looks at Zephyr she knows it isn't true.  She thinks that maybe if she tries harder, she can be surrounded by people that loves her.  Like he is.  Like she wants to be.  All she ever wanted to do was belong.  I don't know why I'm so upset.