“I never wanted to be rid of you, I just wanted to stop playing hotel!” Miriam protested. Hannah had known from a very young age that she wanted to run Carrigan’s and had made them all practice, nonstop, but Miriam still would have kept her all year, if she could have. Miriam’s normal life, at home in Arizona, had been lonely, with no friends she could safely invite over, in case they found out the truth about her family.

“I missed you,” Hannah said, simply.

Miriam cracked open, her tears welling up. (Where were all these tears coming from? Had she been saving them for ten years?) “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be gone so long and miss so much. I thought you had your life’s dream. You didn’t need your mess of a cousin flailing around.”

Even as she spoke, Miriam knew it sounded like a terrible excuse. All the excuses she’d used not to come back sounded terrible, now that she was here and Cass wasn’t.

“I needed you,” Hannah said, shrugging before splitting their sandwiches so they each had half of the other’s, like they’d always done as children. Then, she deconstructed her egg salad on rye and rebuilt it with a layer of potato chips in the middle. “Especially after Blue left, I needed someone who knew all of me, I guess.”

This was exactly what Miriam had been thinking about Hannah, and it pierced her. All the years she’d been gone, she’d thought she couldn’t survive the scrutiny of people who’d always known her, that having no one know her whole self was a feature, not a bug, of avoiding the Carrigan’s crew. But being back, she realized she’d forgotten what it felt like to have someone who had been with you for all of your past, who understood who you’d been at every point of your life. She’d robbed Hannah of that while denying herself, and she hadn’t even thought about whether Hannah would miss her, really. She hadn’t done it on purpose, but the damage had still been done.

“I don’t know how to make that up to you,” Miriam admitted.

“Just keep showing up,” Hannah told her. “Don’t run.”

Miriam nodded. “I’m not sure I’ll do that perfectly. Running is what my feet know best. I can just practice not running every day.”

Hannah gave her a half smile and swiped her last potato chip. “Good enough.”

Their next stop was Marisol’s Boutique. Marisol had been one of many mourners to come to sit shiva and tell stories about Cass. She had long black hair she wore loose down her back and had a great dress on.

“Hey!” she yelled to Hannah. “You’re here without your other half!”

“She’s deeply invested in trees today,” Hannah said, hugging Marisol.