“I could,” Nouresh agreed, though she didn’t sound excited by it.

“But you don’t want to,” said Ava.

Nouresh shrugged. “Getting lost for lack of a better option loses its appeal after a while. I’ve already got too much free time for comfort. How else do you think I was able to wine and dine you and your …” She looked at Jules for a moment, then back to Ava. “Partner?”

Ava swallowed thickly. “Not anymore,” she said. It was the first time she’d actually said it aloud to anyone. She’d texted her friends, emailed her brother, but hadn’t actually said it aloud until now. Three days, the words had been kept in her throat.

“Ah,” Nouresh said delicately.

“I think we could be friends, though?” Ava said. Now that she’d started to speak, she couldn’t seem to stop. “Like, we never really got to that stage. We went straight from coworkers to crush to codependent dating. Traveling with them has almost been easier, despite all the stuff that’s been trying to kill us.” Ava watched Jules showing off their soccer skills, kicking the ball up, catching it on their chest where it seemed to hang, defying gravity for a moment, before dropping it onto the ground again. The kids fell momentarily silent in amazement, then started yelling in excitement as they tried to get the ball back from Jules, and then each other. A couple of kids started fiercely arguing, and Jules held up their hands, trying to circumvent a fight.

“There are beautiful worlds out there, you know,” Captain Nouresh said. “You might want to take the long way back, once you find whatever it is you’re looking for. It might help you find your footing with each other.”

Ava looked from the bull’s-eye to Nouresh, who met her gaze calmly. She really did look a lot like the young woman at the customer service counter. Ava set the FINNA down. “Can I ask you something? Do you have a family?”

Nouresh’s face changed, falling a little. She looked older. “Not anymore,” she said.

“I’m sorry,” Ava said. Sorry for bringing it up, sorry for dragging that unnamed hurt out of the past. Appropriate replacement, she thought. What an awful way of thinking about it. Was that why the FINNA had led them to Nouresh? Some algorithm had matched her grief to the hole Ursula would leave in their world?

“It’s an old sadness,” Nouresh said. “Doesn’t heal, but you get used to bearing it.”

Ava nodded, thinking again of Ursula’s granddaughter. Ava had never been particularly close to her own grandparents, not like the girl—whose name she didn’t even know, she realized. All Ava could think of was the way the young woman had stared at the selfie, the way her worry seemed to diminish her in size and age, make her a child again.