“I’m so sorry,” I said, wanting to assure her that I would never deliberately whip up those old memories. “I didn’t know.” I turned aimlessly in a circle, scanning the block for another place we might eat that didn’t have a wait of hours.

“It’s all right, Daisy. It’s...not as painful as I thought it would be.”

“We’ll go somewhere else,” said Cricket.

“Just give me a second.” Wallis looked at the sidewalk and then at Cricket. The sun was setting down R Street, and from behind, she was illuminated. “I loved him,” she said. “That’s what I’ve been thinking about the last few days. I loved him. I wish I knew if he ever loved me, or if I was just deluding myself the entire time. Don’t worry, I’m not about to forgive him, or excuse what he’s done. I just had this idea that I could change his heart. That I could draw him out of his family. I was stupid to think I could.”

“It’s never stupid to hope,” said Cricket.

Atlas came to mind, his long fingers as he once slipped a piece of printer paper under an industrious spider in my living room, placed it so gently over a glass cup, took it down three flights of stairs and released it, safe, in the mulch. Was it silly to hope that this careful, compassionate man would ever be mine? Or, like Wallis, was it time to up my dosage of reality?

“Blake and I were both so naive,” replied Wallis, gazing at the sky. “Even if his mother could tolerate me, what would our future have looked like? He would’ve always been part of that family. And what could I have done with that? Don’t you think we both would’ve started resenting the hell out of each other?”

The host, in a vest and tie, came out on the stoop and announced to a nearby party that their table was ready. Maybe another night, I thought, and that will be our name he calls. We wouldn’t get our nice dinner, not there, but I’d have this: proof that my sister’s pain was ebbing.

And I had one more thing that might help speed her recovery. I beckoned the two of them close. I’d planned to wait until dinner, but now, on the sidewalk, was as good of a time as any. We huddled together against the iron fencing, and they listened to Ari’s story about the Darleys until the sun was well and truly set, replaced by the glow of the streetlamps and the lights planted under the trees. Wallis wanted every detail. Every word. I summarized as best I could, but I did not mention my source. I couldn’t bring myself to explain about Ari.