Finally, they made it to the building where the service was happening. In an atrium, long rows of black seats, more photographs of Stephen’s dad up on a stage, and in the front row were Stephen and Felix talking to each other. Ayanna could hear some people muttering about how much the coffin had cost. It appeared to them to be a $90,000 model, gold with silk lining and international signs of rest and rejuvenation and safe passage engraved on it.

“I heard his body isn’t even here, that he asked to be buried like an ancient Egyptian, full process, full tomb. All the shit outside is going to be placed in it after this.”

“There’s no way his lawyers would have let him do that. Those are assets.”

“Let’s go say hi,” Jane said.

They walked up the aisle and Ayanna tried to ignore all the heads turning toward them. It was a crowd that was trying to figure them out—girlfriend to either Stephen or Mr. Butler; illegitimate kids; probably not rich because of their shoes; maybe Jane was an artist with her short hair and confidence. A few, Ayanna knew, probably recognized her. She had worked for some of them, either purifying homes or sometimes helping them to reach out to their dead. The attention made her feel itchy. It was strange, too, for there to be no spirits at a place like this. Ayanna had seen them now for so long that she always noticed when they weren’t present. For a while, she had tried to understand it, hoped it would give her a greater sense of how they or death itself worked. But in her thirties, Ayanna had decided to accept the fact the dead, like the living, were idiosyncratic and resisted easy explanations for their behavior.

She hugged Stephen first. He had bags under his eyes and the expression of someone who just wanted everything to be over. Then hugged Felix and couldn’t help but linger, touching his back, letting her face bump up against the top of his shoulders.

“I missed you,” she mouthed at him. He smiled and mouthed it back.

“I was just telling Felix about what my dad decided to do.” Stephen was scanning the room. He paused and looked at Jane. “Please sit down. And do you need more comfortable shoes? Your ankles.”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you?”

“I might ask you later, but right now, I promise I’m not just being polite.”