There were other things the sisters spoke about on the drive, things Ayanna would never tell anyone else. Sometimes, Olivia said things that made no sense, she spoke in circles, offered to tell Ayanna what it meant to be alive in a universe like this. “I’ve seen so many wonderful things,” Olivia said, “and so many awful people.” Ayanna kept holding her sister’s hand, didn’t care how it felt, all Ayanna wanted was to be able to hold on to these moments for the rest of her life. She tried to tell Olivia about their mother, but Olivia said she already knew. Why talk about it? There were so many things Ayanna wanted to say, but the power of listening to Olivia’s voice, being with the person who could make her feel alive. That, Ayanna thought, is maybe the only way to know if you truly love someone. You feel more alive in their presence, more capable of wanting to feel pleasure when you are in their orbit. She told her sister about Felix, Jane, and Stephen. That they had half brothers. Olivia laughed at one point. It was a mix of cackle and giggle and it hurt to realize she had forgotten exactly how it sounded. Will I see you again? Ayanna kept asking, and each time was met with a shift in the conversation. “Could I have brought you back?” Ayanna asked. “It’s possible,” Olivia said, “everything is possible.” The answer was so annoying that Ayanna pushed back, but Olivia changed the subject. Golden deserts, a brief haunting of their favorite women’s-soccer-team player, the bush in Dad’s old front yard, the wonder of being able to understand anybody and everyone, and the song of stars and gravity sung by whales and children.

Finally, the driver let go of her hand. She placed it back on the wheel. Her eyes went back to the road. She put on her sunglasses. The air smelled again of loud perfume and cigarettes.

“It’s on the left,” the driver said.

Ayanna got out of the car. Her heart had never felt bigger in her chest, or more painful. Every bone in her body felt like it was on fire as the car drove away. Without thinking, despite the pain, Ayanna sprinted after it, clunking her carry-on bag on the sidewalk, almost losing it on an uneven patch. “Olivia,” she yelled. Again. When her breath was jagged, she stopped and bent over. Tried to catch a deep breath.

“Buy something or move on,” a man said to her sharply.