Sydney stepped back and tried to get the cobwebs off her fingertips, where they were sticking like tape. “It’s been a few years. But in Boise, for a while.” She gave up on the cobwebs and turned away. She grabbed the rose geranium wine off the table and hurried out the back door, a curious smell of men’s cologne trailing after her. “I’m going to say hi to Bay, then I’ll just take this over to Tyler.”

Ever since that day Sydney mentally returned to the town house in Seattle when she remembered she’d left the photos of her mother there, the scent of David’s cologne would appear around her without warning. Ceiling fans downstairs would turn on by themselves when the scent was particularly strong, as if to chase it away. When it hovered in the upstairs hallway at night, away from fans and night breezes, it paced, hot with anger. Those nights Bay would crawl into bed with Sydney and they would whisper about what they’d left behind. They’d talk in code, saying how happy they were to be away from there, how nice it was to be free. When they said this, they would cross their thumbs and make butterfly shadow puppets on the wall in the purple light coming through the window from Tyler’s yard.

Claire still wanted to know about where Sydney had been and what she’d done while she was away. Sydney knew she should tell her now, especially since sometimes even Claire would smell cologne in the house and wonder aloud where it had come from. But the cologne made Sydney realize what kind of danger she’d put her sister in by coming here, and she was doubly ashamed to admit her mistakes. Claire was doing so much for her.

When Sydney walked outside, the scent of cologne faded in the garden, pummeled by the fragrance of apples and sage and earth. Sydney sat with Bay under the tree and they talked about her day and about the Fourth of July celebration and about how one day they were going to walk over to the elementary school so Bay could see where it was. Ever since Claire had said it was okay for Bay to go into the garden, Bay spent several hours every day lying on the grass by the apple tree. When Sydney asked her why, she said she was just trying to figure something out. Sydney didn’t press, and so much had happened that it was natural that Bay needed time to figure it out.

After talking to Bay, Sydney walked over to Tyler’s. She found him in his backyard, bringing a lawn mower out of his small shed.

“I don’t know, Tyler, are you emotionally ready for all that cut grass again?” she called to him.