by Kelly Gray Jordan Pulmano We drag the doe off the road, fold her into the back of our trunk. Ace is whistling as we drive away, hand on her belly. I’m still nervous from before, my own stomach cramping. A seed of doubt is twisting limbs around my organs, squeezing. I breathe out just loud enough to irritate her. Damn it, Sam. I told you. We don’t need family to make family. Not yours, not mine. Earlier that morning Ace had cornered me in bathroom #6. I had gone in to splas