Ayanna fiddled with her bag, refused to meet Jane’s gaze. It was easier to watch her lips form words—it looked as if she had put on a fresh coat of lipstick on the way over—and to watch the way her bump moved in the dress as she gestured. It felt lucky that Jane was so pregnant. The baby was sacred to her, expensive too. IVF, time, anxieties. Sometimes, Jane referred to the baby as Lambo, because of how much of a luxury it felt to her. There was no way she would follow. There would be, if Ayanna even decided to try to walk the path again, potentially no coming back.

She had told Jane everything when they were in Oregon, years ago. They’d stayed up the entire night talking. The questions Jane had asked about Olivia. Small like favorite color, precise like how had she eaten pizza, crust-eater or not, and big like what did you love most about her. Jane hadn’t had much to say about the doors. She’d been rapt while Ayanna talked about walking through, the way everything had changed. Jane was engaged and thoughtful about her seeing spirits. But it was clear that for Jane, what she wanted was to be another person who could love Olivia. Ayanna understood Jane was afraid of elsewhere. She was the kind of person who couldn’t even go camping. Life for her was never meant to be unruly or dangerous. Ayanna half listened as Jane continued to promise her nothing good would come from any of this.

When it became clear to Jane that Ayanna was going to let her yell until she was exhausted, she turned to Felix with a mix of: You could stop this, are you going to let her go, is this what a good boyfriend does, come the fuck on. I thought you wanted to marry her. Why are you letting me do all the hard work.

“Don’t,” Ayanna said, and it surprised all of them. Stephen sat up a little straighter. It seemed like he was in danger of falling off the couch with its slick material.

“Then talk to me.”

“This is my decision.”

“You should have to explain stupid decisions.”

Ayanna sighed. It wasn’t stupid to her. And it was barely a decision. She’d known immediately, when she had seen the door’s return, that there was proof, she had to go back. It was impossible for her to know what she would do. All she knew was there was nowhere on Earth where she could be except back in the field, sitting in the warm dirt. There, maybe, Ayanna would know completely what to do next.

“If you walk through that door, you will die,” Jane said. “Popping or not, you will never come home.”

“I mean, yes, that’s a possibility,” Ayanna said. “But maybe not. When has walking through a door ever had only one outcome?”