He looked concerned. “What do you mean?”

“Well, some people fade,” she said matter-of-factly.

“They fade?”

“Usually the ones who fade start out blurry. They just never take shape, and then they—” She waved her hand. “—fade away.”

James looked concerned. “Has anyone with a name faded?” “Yeah. Sometimes.”

“That’s awful.”

“Oh.” Anna should be more thoughtful. None of this was matter-of-fact for him. And he was full of feelings. His personality must be a mile deep. “James, that’s not going to happen to you. You burst into life fully formed. That’s such a good sign.”

“You’re sure?”

“Oh yeah. You’re like a tool built for a very specific job. I really think you’ll go in as soon as she has a chance to sit down.”

He tipped his head into his hand and scratched his head. “I shouldn’t let you comfort me like this. It’s very selfish.”

“I don’t mind,” she said. “I’m just being honest.”

“Honest,” he said. “Likable. Sympathetic.”

“Stop,” she said, smiling. “Are you hungry?”

“Is there food here?”

“So much food,” she said, “everywhere you turn. There’s always a cake on my kitchen counter.”

“What kind?”

“Lemon with coconut frosting. Sometimes pineapple upside-down cake.”

“And we can eat it?”

“Yes.” Anna stood up, scooping Peaches out of her lap and onto the porch.

The cake was delicious. The plates and silverware were antiques.

Anna’s parents came home after a while. They were blurry; she could tell it made James nervous. She took him back out to the porch swing.

“Why do you think you still live at home?” he asked her.

“I don’t think she’s gotten around to figuring that out. This house is full of narrative inconsistencies. Ideas dropped on top of older ideas. It’s a mess.”

“I kind of like it,” James said. The sun was setting over the fields. “Why does the sun set?”

“I don’t know,” Anna said. “To keep us sane?”

He laughed. “I feel tired. Is that crazy?”

“No. I think it’s another good sign. Not all of us sleep.”

“Do you sleep?”

“Yes. Sometimes I even dream.”

James giggled. Like that was too much.

“You could stay here,” Anna said, too quickly. Too hopeful.

He glanced at her. “Do you have room?”

Theoretically, she thought. “Yeah,” she said.

They watched the sun set. James wanted to know more about main characters. Anna described every one that she could remember.

“They seem like a troubled bunch,” he said. “Damaged.”

“I guess so,” she agreed. “But not irreparably.”

“I’ll take your word on it—but I don’t think I’m a main character. I feel mostly fine.”