“None of you have ever asked me that,” I whispered. He didn’t have anything to say to that, but I saw his hands tighten around the mug.

“It…” I started, trying to figure out how I could possibly articulate what it’s like to be in a world in which anything and everything is possible and there are no consequences.

“It makes sense,” I found myself saying.

“I know that sounds backward,” I continued, “but it’s true. There’s something about the dreamworld that’s … clear. Uncomplicated. Even though it’s the most unpredictable place I’ve ever been, there’s a comfort in it. A safety. It helps me understand you all better.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“The dreams you all have, they’re … I don’t know, they’re perfect distillations of who you are. You dream about big, broad canyons, so much that I’ve started to dream about them too. Mom always dreams about forests and oceans, and Aaron … Aaron dreams about real life in a way that feels even realer than actual life. Does that make sense?”

“I’m not sure,” he said, huffing a laugh. “You know, your mom and I went to the Grand Canyon right before we had Aaron. I wonder if that’s why I dream about it so much.”

“It’s a place that you and Aaron like a lot.” I nodded.

“You know, Rose,” he said, leaning forward a bit to catch my eyes, “we’re here. We’re not in there, in that dreamworld—”

“Aaron is,” I said. “Not always, but I can talk to him in there. We can … share it, in a weird way.”

“And when was the last time you talked to him? In the dreamworld?”

“Okay, yeah, I haven’t lately,” I admitted. “But I haven’t been dreamdiving at all lately.”

“We just miss you, Rose,” he said, sounding sad. “I know you’ve got work and Emily and your friends, but even when you’re here, you’re … you’re somewhere far away.”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I’ll do better, I promise.”

He patted my hand, and I couldn’t tell if it was a pat of appreciation, that he believed I would do better, or if it was a pat of consolation, knowing that I would try and try and continue to fail. But I needed him to understand. I needed him to understand that I wasn’t distracted by the thought of the dreamworld, I was distracted by the thought of him getting better.

“Dad,” I said after a moment, “can I ask you a question?”

“Of course, Rose.”

“You’re using your telekinesis today,” I pointed out. “You haven’t been using it very much but today…”

“It’s hard to access sometimes,” he said, confirming what I’d been thinking for months with a single shrug. “I think the … well, you know…”

I nodded.