I didn’t have to be alone. I could have reached out to someone. We had a land line—no cell phone because my father was certain they caused cancer—and there were people I could have called. I decided not to, though. My parents had been peculiar and really didn’t have any friends. Because I was a minor, I knew that if I reported their deaths, I’d be taken away to a group home or put in the foster system, a system already overloaded with Covid orphans.

I decided to go it alone, much as my parents had done. I guess in the end, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

To my surprise, I never got sick. And no one ever called to check on me or my parents. The death rate was so high in our county, funeral homes were overwhelmed and officials were gettin...

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