She has heard other children describe it as being deep underwater, at the bottom of the ocean, but not needing to breathe. Yet, if they realized that they needed to breathe and opened their mouths, they would drown. So long as they refused to believe they needed to breathe at the bottom of the ocean, they would be safe. It was a paradoxical understanding, but Ify saw the logic in it, the necessity of needing to believe a lie to survive. That was what allowed Nigeria to still function as a country, she realizes wryly. The lie agreed upon.

Peter again looks to Paige, then to Amy, perhaps wondering if there’s something wrong with Ify or if there’s some arcane rule or bit of manners that he’s forgotten.

Ify listens to him, the way he talks, the way he moves. Listens to the way he sometimes taps the tine of a fork against his plate, just so softly. Listens to his massive inhales that push back his shoulders, then the way he exhales through his nose. Listens to the way it seems like electricity is running through him, making him move and talk and walk as though he were being fast-forwarded. She finds she’s listening to all of him, hearing not the synth she’s spent all this time mistrusting, but a boy. Who just wants to be safe.

That’s what it is.

Everything he had done before that Ify saw as malicious and evil, as manipulative—that wasn’t him being a synth. That was him being a boy.

Everything he had done that had made Amy smile or that had delighted Paige or that had caused either or both of them to look at him with wonder and gratitude—that wasn’t him being a synth. That was him being a boy.

“So, when are exams?” Ify asks him, twirling together her own spaghetti.

Peter registers a moment of shock before smirking, then throwing his head back in annoyance. “Ugh, I’m gonna be fine for exams. Don’t worry. I know how to study for these things.”

Around a meatball, Ify says, “Every child that has come through this family has made high marks, so . . .”

“It’ll be easy!”

And like this, Ify listens to him. Truly listens. And sees his past in front of her—the damage, the trauma—but also his future. The promise, the potential, the triumph. All of it coming together to infuse the present moment with a glow. So bright Ify almost doesn’t register the loving smiles that both Paige and Amy have sent her way.

■  ■  ■  ■  ■

A breeze catches Ify and Peter on their faces as they sit next to each other on the front porch. Even though Peter is younger than her, his gangly limbs have him colonizing multiple steps while Ify’s comfortable enough on two.

“Will you ever go back?” Peter asks.