She lets out a sigh, and something inside of me shifts. Her sigh says everything I can’t put into words—it makes all this pain, all this nostalgia make a little more sense. It makes me feel less alone.

“I miss you,” she says.

“Me too, Ma. I wish you could be here.”

Sophie comes running toward me, her hair dripping wet. “Is that Ma on the phone?”

“It is, Sophie.”

I hand her my cell phone, and she takes it with shaking hands.

“Mi nena,” Ma says, sighing again. “How are you? How’s the water?”

“Not too cold, Ma. You would’ve liked it.”

My mind flashes back to images of Ma soaking her feet. Even though Sophie and I go swimming every single time, Ma would only join us if the water was warm.

“The beaches in Mexico are even better than Coney Island, Sophie,” Pa says, coming up behind Ma. “Just wait and see.”

In that moment, I realize something. We’re all here together. Despite the distance, and despite the fact that Ma and Pa aren’t standing right next to us, the four of us are all here, together at the beach, just as we said we would be.

I turn to meet Sophie’s eyes. They’re sparkling, as though she’s thinking the exact same thing—as though she’s realizing that this moment feels just like the old days. As she and I sit down on a towel, with Pa and Ma smiling on the phone, I can’t help but think that, after all those times Ma told us to be strong and brave, that’s exactly what we’ve become. And no matter how hard they tried to separate us, how much the distance hurt, or how it nearly broke us, we are really, truly indivisible.

We wake up at the break of dawn the next day. I cracked the bedroom window open last night because it was too hot, but now the early morning air is bringing a chill into the room, reminding me that fall is coming, that school is starting soon, that the time has come for Sophie to leave.

We have breakfast at the kitchen table. Amy went all out today and made a huge meal as a way to wish Sophie farewell, but Jorge is the only one who has the appetite to finish all his food. Sophie and I barely touch ours, partly because it’s too early to eat, and partly because we’re feeling a little anxious.

When we walk out of the building, there’s a familiar blue car parked right across the street. Jorge borrowed Amy’s parents’ car again, and left Ellie with them for the day so he and Amy could drive us to the airport. He helps us load Sophie’s heavy suitcase into the trunk, and then we’re on our way to LaGuardia.