“What, exactly?” Lily asked. She had never noticed how suffocating the night could be. She thought about turning on the AC, cranking it up all the way even though the air outside was that of a perfect New England summer. She wanted to turn on everything in that car, until it flashed and honked and screamed. But when he opened his car door and she heard his shoes crack the pine needles of the woods’ floor, she knew, and she went out after him.

PEYOTE

THE AIR IN THE room both smelled and felt like soup. Not fresh soup, but rather a bowl left out in the sink, with the membrane that clings to the edges. It took a minute for my eyes to adjust to the gloom.

The sleeping body in the bed was not what I expected. I expected a bull of a man with the kind of smile that leaves its target feeling defiled, even from across a room. The kind of man who turns boys into soldiers without a war. The kind of man who could make a daughter like Cal. But this man was something else entirely. He was closer to a sack of flour than any of those things.

I looked at Cal’s face, and I could tell she was thrown too. When you live outside of time, it can be easy to forget how it passes on Earth. But here was the proof, sagged in front of us. Melted by it.

But she didn’t hesitate for long. She pushed down the comforter, which was hiked up to his chin like a child’s, and reached into the soft dough of his neck. When she felt it, she pulled. The leather strap gave easily, without waking him up.

Once it was in her fist, Cal seemed surprised. As if she hadn’t expected to get this far.

“I could still take it to Jason,” I said, watching her as much as the key. For such a desired object, it was very plain. It was the color of aged silver and ended in a trefoil, each of the three leaves punched with a perfect hole in the center. I can’t say I didn’t feel a flutter at finally seeing it, but ultimately, like most sought things, once found, it proved disappointing.

But not to Cal. She let the key spin in front of her for a moment before guiding it into her open palm, and didn’t answer.

“Cal?” I said, but she just stared. I was about to say her name again when she turned to me.

“It’s not real, right? You said it’s not real. I know it’s not. Right?”