My friends must be out doing something in the city, because they’re nowhere to be seen. It is Saturday night after all.

A few hours later, Celeste sends me all the files from today, without a subject or a message as usual. I don’t know why I expected anything different from her, but my heart still sinks when my phone stays dark the rest of the night.

Before I go to sleep, I write a formal apology to Nat and Keiko for their interview’s abrupt end. Without going into personal details, I thank them for their time and tell them that both Celeste and I were very deeply moved by what they told us. Since I don’t think she’ll mind, I cc Celeste and send the email before focusing on wrapping up the project.

We’re somehow already five weeks away from Valentine’s Day, making us a bit behind schedule. But since work is a good distraction from everything else, I end up being super productive and make up for lost time.

By Monday morning, I’ve finished the write-up, added Celeste’s pictures, and sent everything to Evelyn for review.

I’m sad, but not surprised, when I don’t hear from Celeste again.

36: Gemma

I don’t have the heart—or strength—to tell my friends what happened yet. But even without me saying anything, Val and Kiara seem to sense that something is wrong, because they give me extra-long hugs when I move out later that week.

“You’re always welcome back anytime,” Kiara tells me after she and Val help me move my box to Ms. Chang’s apartment.

“Burrito will miss you,” Val says. “We will, too, of course. But we’ll still see each other at work every day.”

I pout. “Aw, I’ll miss Burrito, too! He’s the best. I’ll definitely come over to visit him!”

I’m glad I had the foresight to schedule my move-in day when I did, because it turns out to be perfect distraction from everything that happened with Celeste. For the next two weeks, I have my hands full with making the room into my new home. It’s not as spacious as the condo I lived in with James, but after living several months on my friends’ couch, just having my own bed feels like a huge luxury.

My new landlady, Ms. Chang, and her husband, Mr. Lieu, are a nice, older Asian couple who are recent empty nesters. Ms. Chang, I learn, frequently cooks when she’s nervous, so the apartment always smells of delicious food whether she’s at home or not. She also sometimes even makes me snacks and meals like she were my own mom, waving me away and saying they had extra when I tell her she doesn’t have to give me any.