“Emily?” the woman said. Her voice sounded a million years old, dry and weak. “Emily, answer me.”

“It’s me,” said Marigold. “It’s Emily. Here I am.”

“Oh, good. I fell asleep on the sofa. I had a bad dream.”

Marigold did not know how to answer, so she didn’t. She only glanced at the screen door and considered how fast she could get to it.

The old voice said, “Who’s that? Standing beside you? Ben, is that you?”

Marigold glanced beside her at the icebox.

“I can see you both standing there,” the woman said. “Ben? Ben? Is that you? Are you hungry, Ben? Emily, fix your grandfather a sandwich.”

“There’s nobody else here,” Marigold said. “Maybe you should go back to bed.”

The woman patted the wall and ran her hand along the surface as though she were searching for a light switch. Marigold turned to run, but her legs were paralyzed. When the woman’s hand found the switch, the room lit up.

The pale-faced woman was ancient. She was hunched at the shoulders, leaning on a cane. Her white hair was thin, and her skin looked like weathered wood. She stared at Marigold until her brow furrowed. Then she looked directly to the left of Marigold.

“Emily,” the woman said. Her face ruptured in tears. She was no longer looking at Marigold but staring at something that wasn’t there. “Oh, Emily, I’m so confused.” The woman came closer and touched Marigold. “I can’t remember anything, and sometimes I forget who I am.”

Marigold took a step back from the woman.

“I’m scared, Emily.”

“It’s gonna be okay, Granny,” said Marigold, retreating. “Just go back to bed.”

The woman began breathing heavily. A cold look fell on the woman’s face. She began glancing around the room. It was as though the walls were closing in. The woman’s features contorted. “I don’t know where I am.” The woman began to sob. “Where am I?”

Marigold felt a sensation in her fingertips. It crawled slowly into her palms. It was a tingling that turned into warmth. Soon her hands were hot like fire. Her palms ached with a heat.

“Emily, is that you?” The woman came toward Marigold. “Help me, Emily!” she said. “Please don’t let them get me!”

“Nobody’s gonna hurt you,” said Marigold.

“Ben! Ben! Where’s Ben? Please come back, Ben!”

“Sshhh,” said Marigold.

She wrapped her arms around the old woman. She placed her palms on the back of the woman’s neck, and it felt like touching a potbelly stove. The woman’s chest expanded with big breaths. Marigold’s chest began to tingle with a thousand needle pricks.

The old woman squeezed Marigold so hard she felt herself creak. She could feel the woman’s heart, pulsing beneath her ribs. It was almost as if they had become so entwined that they were one person instead of two.