But the spring wildflowers—gold, pink, purple, even the faint green buds—imitated a desert sky at sunset. Linear-leaved goldenbush, Acton’s bristle brush, fourwing saltbush, blackbrush, California buckwheat, Nevada jointer, Anderson’s boxthorn, California juniper, Indian ricegrass, big galleta grass, brownplume wirelettuce, Parry’s nolina, desert needlegrass, Mojave aster. Aurora said their names in her head like a prayer for the earth, an incantation to help calm her mind.

◆◆◆

Although Aurora had changed, nothing about the place she’d grown up seemed any different. The aluminum siding of the Airstream trailer baked like a cookie tray in the sun. Leanne sat under the juniper tree sipping tea from a broken cup. The mannequin was still there, though she now wore a pink tutu—for spring, Leanne would say if anyone would listen. Aurora wondered if someone had claimed the male mannequin Leanne gave her after Cyrus went missing. The one with the painted tattoos, the stones taped to its eyes. The plastic figure she’d anointed with blood. Left in the shack when Aurora put the place up for sale. Probably in a dump by now.

Leanne stood and shielded her eyes from the light. “Is that you? Izzy? Is that you? What do you have there with you?”

Aurora, babies strapped to her body, walked toward Leanne—slowly. She didn’t want Leanne to come too close.

Something had changed: Leanne looked older now.

“This is your grandson, Keaton,” Aurora said. “This is Nephy’s son, Jack.”

Leanne froze and put her hands over her mouth.

“I brought you something.” Aurora took some cash that she’d saved out of her jeans’ pocket and held it out to Leanne, who snatched at it and tucked it in her bra.

“You okay, Leanne?”

Leanne stared at Keaton and Jack.

“Where’s Larry?” Aurora asked.

Leanne said, “Around back. Chopping some wood.”

“If you need me, you let me know,” Aurora told her. “Once I get settled some more maybe I can come get you and bring you to LA with me.”

She hadn’t planned on saying this, and had Leanne even heard her? But Aurora was glad she’d said it anyway. It struck her for the first time how much Leanne had been a victim, too. How she’d tried to raise Aurora as her own, even if the whole thing clearly broke her. “And don’t let Larry boss you around too much in the meantime,” Aurora added.

“Speak of the devil,” Leanne mumbled as Larry came around from the back of the trailer.

Land of devils. You were wrong, Larry.

“Izzy?” Larry said. “That you? Who’s that there with you?”

“This is Keaton and Jack,” Aurora said.

“You’ve been busy. Twins?” He laughed. “Your hair looks good, though. Grown out.”

Aurora took a step back when he approached. “I’m here to tell you something.”

Larry smirked at her. “Oh, yeah, what’s that?”