Sawyer looked at Evie. He must have succeeded in transmitting his question via ESP, because she gave a little nod. Lynn walked her parents out, and Sawyer turned to Clara. “You going to that dinner, too?”

She looked torn. “I don’t have to. Why don’t the three of us go somewhere to eat?”

“No, no. You should…” His voice cracked.

“You should go make new friends.” Evie’s voice was firm but kind.

Clara looked at him. He nodded, but he was faking it. God. Clara looked so young. How could he just leave her here? What had happened? One minute he was sneaking into her room at night to perform tooth-fairy duties, and now she was here. Now she was a person who wrote essays about vaccination policy and was majoring in engineering and was going out to dinner with her friends in Toronto.

“I’ll see you in a month,” she said, as if she could read his mind. “At the Anti-Festival.” She had informed him that she’d read up on the topic and thought it best that she not come home for a month, that giving in to homesickness too early on could prevent proper socialization.

What could he do but agree?

But then her face crumpled, and she threw herself into his arms.

He felt like he was floating above his body. Which wasn’t the worst thing in the world, because otherwise he was pretty sure he would start openly weeping. He hugged her tight. “I’m so proud of you, and I love you so much.” He wasn’t crying, but his speech was clogged with unshed tears. Thinking back to the bomb she’d dropped in the car that morning, he added, “I love everything about you.”

“Thank you for everything, Sawyer,” she whispered.

He forced himself to let her go. To make a dismissive gesture. “Okay, we’re being melodramatic. I’ll see you in a month.”

She nodded overly vigorously and took a step back. Turned to Evie and hugged her.

Evie. Evie who was looking at him over Clara’s shoulder, her eyes bright with moisture but steady like beacons.

Evie would get him out of here.

And she did.

She propelled him out of the room, and as soon as they were on the stairwell—Clara had hovered in her doorway waving at them as they walked down the hallway—Evie grabbed his hand. Held it tight and led him down three flights. When they got to the van he’d borrowed from Jordan’s auto shop, she held out her hand and said, “Keys.”

He gave them to her. Once inside, he slumped forward and let his head hit the dashboard. “Today my sister came out and moved out. That’s a lot of out.”

She didn’t answer, just started the van. “What do you want to do? Stop for dinner somewhere?”