The glasses clinked—and just like that, I was thrust back thirty-five years, to my ten-year-old self. I could see her, that little girl, in sepia tones, feel the way the house shook, how the shards of glass hit my skin, smell the gasoline, the fire, hear the shrieks of my brothers and sisters. But most of all, it was the shatter of glass that got me. The clatter, the clang. Maybe it was because it was the last thing I could remember that it always launched me back into that moment. The last thing before I woke up in a sterile hospital room all alone. I had been in the hospital once before when my eardrum burst, and my mom had never left my side. What she did with my four brothers and sisters I’ll never know. I’d never thought about it; I hadn’t had to. She kept us safe. Until she couldn’t keep us safe anymore.

“Alice, you go next!” Jamie shrieked.

I pinned on my most serene face. Jamie. My love. She, Brenna, and Audrey were the reason I could hear shrieks again without having to hide away; they were the reason that I could experience real laughter. You aren’t alone, I reminded myself. They’re all here. They aren’t going anywhere.

“The best part of my day today,” I said, “was coming home and seeing all of these kids running around together on the beach.”

I caught the smile that Emma and Iris shared, and it made my heart jump. Kids had such an easy connection, made such fast friendships. It was part of what made the mommune work.

“I am grateful,” I said, “for the sunsets and how much I love sharing them with all of you. And I need help with…” I paused and put my finger to my chin as if I was thinking really hard. “… deciding which toppings I’m going to put on my ice cream tonight!”

“Oh! Oh! Sprinkles!” Jamie said.

“Chocolate chips!” Audrey added.

“And chocolate syrup too!” Brenna added in a very mature voice. I had noticed that she had these moments now where she was trying to seem more grown-up than her sisters, I think to distinguish herself as more like Emma and Iris and less like Jamie and Audrey. It broke my heart a little, but it was also the most natural thing in the world.

I took a bite of my noodles and cabbage, savoring the salty, tangy goodness of the flavors combining in my mouth.

Grace started to get up, her plate already clean. “Oh, I’ll help you,” I said.