Explore! Create! Follow Your Muse! The colorful posters along the wall had nothing to do with me or my life. I wasn't here to explore my creativity or strike deals with some girl I'd never see again after the Crystal Faire. I was here to work. Papo's bottom line — as long as my art brought in money, he'd keep a roof over my head. The roof might be the van or a foreclosed house, but it was still a roof. Papo relished reminding me it was more than anyone else had offered. Dad had never talked about his relatives; I assumed he didn't have any left. Whenever I had suggested Mom's family might want me, might be looking for me, Papo would laugh or cuff my head."You think so, Nico? You think your aunt is desperate to find her missing nephew? Then why didn't she rescue you when your dad hit the bottle and you were starving on the streets? Huh? Because she didn't care. She ain't got any kids. Why would she want some street rat?"Part of me resisted Papo's brainwashing. After all, when cancer had stolen Mom, Bronwyn had been away at college, barely twenty years old, with no family left except me.
