I spend the next twenty minutes looking at all the travelers on their way to unknown destinations. I usually have a book with me when I’m out by myself since I don’t have a fancy phone to distract me. I didn’t bother packing a book in my backpack because I knew I didn’t have the mental capacity to get swept away into a fictional universe, even though that might be what my brain needs the most: diversion.

There are a few more texts from Paula:

Are you all right?

Is anybody giving you trouble?

Is everything okay?

Do you need anything?

How are you feeling?

I reply to each right away. Then the text comes from my grandmother saying that the media have left and I can meet her.

I’m uneasy getting on the train. It’s not that I’m afraid of getting lost; it’s that I’m nervous meeting this woman. When I think of grandmothers I think of Grandma Gleason.

I wonder what she’s doing right now. And Marian. And Neil.

I get off the train and follow the signs to baggage claim. I pass by security and stop as soon as I see her.

It’s not that I recognized her from a memory or the photo Paula showed me, but it’s the look on her face. A warm smile and pride in her eyes. It’s a look for someone you love. It says I’m safe. It says I’m wanted.

“Hello, my sweet granddaughter,” she says as she takes a few hesitant steps toward me. “You’ve grown so much.” She has on coral capris and a matching cardigan over a flowered shirt. Her bright white hair is short, and she has makeup perfectly applied. But there are those eyes. The same eyes that I have. That Paula has.

“Hi … Grandma.”

I can’t seem to bring myself to call Paula “Mom,” but for some reason I’m compelled to be more at ease with this woman. Maybe it’s because I had a grandmother in Grandma Gleason, so it’s not a completely foreign concept to me. Not like a mom.

She steps closer to me while I’m frozen in place. She takes my hands and stares into my eyes. “You have grown into such a beautiful young lady.” She puts her wrinkled hands gently on my face. “Now, let’s get you home.”

Home.

Grandma Amanda wraps her arms around my shoulders as we walk toward the exit. “Yes, it’ll be good to get you home.”

There’s that word again: home.

I nod and smile along, even thought I feel empty inside.

I don’t know if I’ll ever feel at home again.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter

TWENTY-EIGHT

“Ah, here we are.” Grandma Amanda pulls into a crowded driveway.