“Group hug!” Max cries, steering my dad toward us. My dad sets the challah board down, crumbs spilling everywhere, and picks up Max, wrapping his other arm around me and my mom.

But then, just as quickly, we are pulling apart. My dad puts Max down and rifles through the newspaper to find the sports section before heading upstairs to bed for a Shabbat afternoon rest. My mother walks back and forth to the kitchen to finish cleaning up; soon she’ll find the book review section and also go upstairs to rest. Already the quiet is descending. It’s like the heavy velvet cloth covering the bima in synagogue is draping our house, muffling our voices and amplifying other sounds—neighborhood children playing in their backyards, an airplane overhead, the soft hum as the air-conditioning starts up, the clink of my mother loading the dishwasher, the whooshing of the Shabbos urn keeping the water hot for my mother’s tea.

“Wanna do Lego with me?” Max asks me, reappearing in his space ranger costume.

“Maybe when I get back,” I say, slipping on my sandals.

“Milla!” Honey cries four days later when she spies me entering the schoolyard with Max and my mom.

I take off like a shot toward her. “Yay, you’re here!” We hug, jumping up and down together in excitement.

“It’s not fair,” Max protests as he and my mother join us. “I finally get to kindergarten, but I still won’t see you!” The middle school is in a different building from the nursery and the elementary school.

“We’ll see each other when I get home,” I say.

Dan-Dan yanks at Honey’s skirt. Her two small ponytails look like a matching pair of trees on top of her head.

“Don’t worry, I’ll come visit you,” Honey tells her, bending down to Dan-Dan’s height and giving her a squeeze. “You too,” she tells Aaron, who is wearing noise-canceling headphones, so I don’t think he can hear her. She holds out a closed hand for their special fist bump, and he closes his own hand and lightly taps his fist onto hers.

Miriam is standing with her arms crossed and addresses the air in front of her. “You can force me to come here, but you can’t force me to like it.” She scowls even more gruesomely. “Or make any friends.”

“You’ll be just fine,” Mrs. Wine tells her firmly, patting her shoulder. “Don’t worry, you’ll all be fine.”

“I’m not worried,” Honey says.

“C’mon,” I say to her with a smile, giving my mother and Max a quick wave goodbye and leading Honey to the back where the middle school entrance is.

As we turn the corner, there is a scream.

“Honeeey!” Natalie Aronovich cries, rushing forward. “Oh my god, I’m so excited you’re in our school now!” I roll my eyes to Honey, but she can’t see because Natalie is crushing her in a hug. Honestly, the only reason Natalie even knows Honey is from my birthday parties.