“This is your fault,” her mother said.

“Sure.” Ayanna was surprised by how neutral she felt. She wasn’t eighteen any longer. A part of her could imagine Felix, Jane, and Stephen reacting to her telling them about seeing her mom. The different ways they would find to turn the situation into something easier to discuss, from making jokes about it to getting indignant on her behalf. Once on a demented tangent, Jane had described a fantasy she had of following Ayanna’s mom with a bucket of snowballs, just chucking them at the back of her head, luxuriating in the thought of the ice that would fall down the back of her coat, making her clothes beneath cold and wet. She deserves it, Jane had said. Looking at Opal, Ayanna could hear Jane saying, “True justice is a snowball to the throat,” and almost laughed. Ayanna refilled the water bottle and handed it to her mother. She didn’t need this person to treat her well. Her cruelty no longer made Ayanna feel lonely.

Outside, the door had changed again. A golden jungle where snow was falling and parrots that looked cut from night were swarming near the door’s edge and looking out. Opal said she could hear Olivia’s voice here and tried to go in, Ayanna held her back by the arm and refused to let go. I can’t hear her, Ayanna kept saying. I would be able to hear her if she was here. They argued until the door slammed shut. And the sky above cracked open, rain falling so fast and thick that it was a relief to Ayanna.

The rain stopped after only a few minutes. Still, the birds watched from their side of the door. The door kept following its new whims. Closing in one-to-two-hour intervals. Opening up to new vistas. The more Ayanna saw, the more she alternated between being dazzled and feeling unspeakable dread. For each place that stirred up her desire to walk through, to draw a map, to bring back proof of the place’s existence, another would open that made Ayanna feel certain here was where she would be. There was one door, all white light, and a sound that was barely able to be heard that made Ayanna nauseated. A susurrus quality, like an unwanted mouth next to her ear. Even those remaining in the crowd behind the gate backed away. A woman fainted.

“You should get help,” Ayanna said to her mom after the door had shut again. “I don’t mean that flippantly. But you don’t have to live like this.”

Later, Ayanna said to Opal: “You still have time to start over. I can’t promise you’ll be happy, but you should try to live a life.” Ayanna handed her some beef jerky.