“I always feel like my heart fills up all the way to my throat when I see a little Black girl with beads in her hair. I want to say, your parents think you are the cutest thing on Earth if they took time to do that.”

“But it’s what I miss so much, I miss feeling like no matter what, there was someone out there who would love me, who would like me. Only God offered me that. And now, I don’t have God, I don’t have parents who will love me unless I’m closeted and unhappy. I feel so alone.” Jane took a deep breath. “And my mom is sick. My dad says it will be too stressful for everyone if I come home because I keep causing issues.”

Ayanna shook her head.

“Please don’t say anything,” Jane said. “I already know I can’t change. I know this is a problem only because they choose to make it a problem. I know I’ve been being crazy lately. So.” She took a sip of water, looked up at the ceiling. “What’s going on with you?”

“I had a twin sister,” Ayanna said. “Olivia. She died. I don’t want to talk about how, but my family, we just fell apart in the aftermath. And my mom, she’s always been rough on me, but because of this, there’s nothing there.”

Jane paused for a long moment, then reached across the table and took Ayanna’s hand. “I’m not trying to replace your sister, but let’s be family.”

Ayanna’s throat shut with emotion, eyes watering at how simply Jane offered this. She wanted to get up from the table and walk out into the cold night. I don’t deserve to have a family, she thought. Her rational self knew this was why her therapist said she had PTSD. These thoughts were because of the guilt she felt around Olivia; she hadn’t been able to say it yet in therapy, but she had written it after, the way her head ached even when she thought about her parents. All her feelings were sharp and jagged inside her, it felt impossible to crawl through them, for things to ever change. Then, she thought about lying on her bedroom floor, listening to Lisa’s breathing. The way she had looked at the pupils of the boy who had been hit by the bike, made him talk, tried to understand if he was okay. How much she was willing to care for someone else even though she barely knew them. I want to live, she thought, and I want other people to live well. It was her new mantra. It would not ever make depression and anxiety go completely away, but it was the best thing she could think of to make living feel bearable again. Tomorrow, she would see her therapist, and discuss her medication dosage.