“I’m not so sure,” I said, packing our suitcases into the overhead compartment as an impatient passenger tried to jam herself by me. “Sugar can conceal a lot.”

“I know you’re secretly happy, even if you’re acting like a grump now,” Wallis said from her seat. She took a tangled pair of earphones from her purse, unfurled them with more pleasure than the task deserved. I could tell she was trying to fuel her own excitement with the possibility of my own. I could practically feel her anticipation. She seemed to levitate.

Let me rephrase. Wallis is going for Blake. I’m going for Bo.

I see. Sorry we’re missing each other.

I’m the worst, I wrote to Atlas, not sure if I meant it or not. Then, sliding in past Wallis and taking my seat: “I won’t dampen your spirits anymore. Heaven forbid I carry with me a stench of grumpiness.”

“Daisy,” Wallis said, sparing me only a glance, “I’m just kidding.”

The cockpit announcements came, along with the reminders of everything we’d heard dozens of times before. Wallis was instructed to put her phone on airplane mode. I, on the other hand, wore my seat belt tight on my hips and had already made sure my window shade was up. The flight attendants never had any commands for me.

“Will Blake be in Charleston this weekend?” I asked once Wallis had complied. “Have you made plans to see him?” This was something, in case our plane went down, that I wanted to know. I wanted to know what my sister was dying for.

“Have to figure that out,” she said. “We’ve been dealing with his busy schedule. He’s pretty sure he’ll be in town. We’ve been texting. We email. Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I wasn’t aware,” I said carefully, “that you’ve been in touch to such an extent.” I understood that it wasn’t really over between them, but I’d thought the status was more tenuous.

She shrugged. “You haven’t asked.”

“You told me when he left that you didn’t want to talk about it!” I said. “I was respecting your wishes.”

“I’m talking about it now, aren’t I? I’m happy. I’m positive. I think he and I can get back on track. With his mother on her way out of the Senate...” She trailed off and lifted her body slightly to see past me and out the plane’s window.

Ari had been right, after all. POTUS had released a statement last week nominating Melinda Darley for health secretary. On-air anchors and pundits chewed over the nomination all day long and into the predawn hours, when I, red-eyed, dreading another day filled with empty hours, didn’t have the will to change the channel.