* * *

Violet found Maya sitting on the dock behind their house, her legs dangling over the edge of the wooden boards, the river moving beneath her feet in sun-dappled swirls. Lying next to her was a shoebox filled with odds and ends. Instead of turning around and leaving Maya to her reverie, she followed an impulse—the barest hint of a nudge in her spirit—and continued down to the dock.

“What’s going on out here?” she called as she approached.

Maya craned her head. “Hey there.” She turned back to the river. “Not much. Just thinking.”

“Mind if I think with you?”

Maya tilted her head toward the space next to her, on the other side of the box. Violet slipped off her sandals, folded her body down, and, ignoring a squeeze in her knee, sat.

It was early afternoon, and the sun perched high in the sky with only a thin scrape of clouds marring the blue. Not wanting to push, Violet waited for Maya to speak first, and finally she did.

“I guess you’re waiting for me to tell you about this box.” Maya nudged it with the tip of a finger.

Violet glanced down at it for the first time, noting a fork and a small shoe before she lifted her gaze. “Only if you want to tell me about it.”

Maya reached in and grazed her fingers across the items almost lovingly. “Remember the little shell box? The one I took from the shop the first day I came in?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“I used to take things from the places where I lived. They were just silly little things, things that didn’t even matter.” She picked up the fork from the box and twirled it in her hand before dropping it back in. “They just made me feel, even if just for a minute, like I belonged there in that house. I guess it felt like taking a little piece of each place made me more real. More permanent.” She tightened her ponytail at the back of her head. “It sounds so stupid when I say it out loud.”

“It’s not stupid. Nothing that comes from your heart is going to be stupid.” Violet paused, considering her words carefully. “But you kept all these things, all this time. And you gave the shell box back. Why is that?”

A corner of Maya’s mouth lifted. “I don’t know. I think I knew this place was going to be different. Or maybe I just hoped it would be. Everywhere else I lived . . .” She pressed her lips together. “Even though I wanted something real, I knew those places weren’t right for me. I think I gave the box back because I realized I wouldn’t need it. Because eventually I’d have you. You and Trudy.” A rosy pink spread across Maya’s cheeks.

She reached down and snapped the lid of the shoebox closed. “Anyway, I don’t need this box anymore. I don’t need the stuff in it. I feel like I’m finally home. In myself and in this place. With all of you.”