According to Coulomb’s law (see below), it should not be possible for Nah and me to be moving apart BECAUSE WE HAVE OPPOSITE CHARGES. Opposites attract! But according to the work I’ve done, THE LAW DOES NOT APPLY TO HUMAN ENERGETIC FIELDS. (If they exist, which we don’t have enough data on yet, but I’m beginning to think they do. I should not mention this fringe theory in my NASA interview.)

BUT WAIT. It IS possible for us to have opposite charges and move apart because even though there is an attractive Coulomb force, our velocities could be moving us away from each other faster than the attractive force can bring us back together. Which means WE ARE GOING TOO FAST IN OPPOSITE DIRECTIONS. It’s like the wave has thrown Nah and me into separate, fast-moving currents that are moving away from each other. Well, I’m not an oceanographer and actually know nothing about currents, but YOU GET MY DRIFT. (No pun intended.)

My math checks out.

Coulomb’s law is F = kq1q2/r2

Or:

F being the force of our sisterly bond = Hannah’s negative charge as a result of being very sad multiplied by Mae’s positive charge of working the problem and eliminating things that can kill her next, divided by the radius of separation squared, which in this case is the psychic distance created as a result of grief, depression, and addiction squared …

Clearly we should be moving closer to each other.

I must consider the possibility that the radius between us must be so much greater than I thought. Maybe the relative distance is so vast that even though we’re opposites, the charges can’t pick up on each other.

I could have stayed in that room with Hannah. Lay down on the bed with her, or sat at her desk to do my homework. But I didn’t.

Turns out I can be as stubborn as her, when I want to be.

I should not be going to Harvard Square, to a boy with a magnetic force field. She will take another pill. I know it. She wouldn’t be able to, if I were there. But:

Our family—it’s done.

She is a rosa sericea, a winged thorn rose. Known for their huge thorns.

Would she have said that to me if she knew the truth about Micah?

Maybe fourteen years of being told we are sisters isn’t enough. Maybe it does matter—blood. Maybe she feels like her family is done because the other blood members are gone, and she is the only one left.

No.

She’s just depressed. And scared. She thinks I’m leaving her. I am leaving her.

Work the problem.