I don’t say anything, because right now the only thing my memories are good for is to create fear—fear of this new reality, fear for my family who have no idea what awaits them, and fear that I will forever long for something I can’t have.

I try to think of something else to talk about. Something that doesn’t send my emotions into a downward spiral. “You’re from Russia?”

Her eyes dance with understanding. “You’re wondering why I don’t speak Russian. But to me, you’re speaking Russian.” When I frown, she explains. “We hear what makes sense to us, but there’s only one language in Infinity, and that’s the language of our consciousness.”

“I have so many questions I don’t even know where to start. Like how is your mouth forming words in English if that’s not what you’re speaking? And what would happen if I tried to speak a different language? Would it still sound like English—oh my God, I’m trying and it still sounds like English.” I attempt a rapid-fire stream of words I still remember from my freshman year in Spanish, eyes growing wider with each attempt.

Shura giggles. “Think of it more as speaking in thoughts. You’re not really getting across words—more like ideas.”

“This is making my brain hurt.”

“Mine did too, until I found out people like Theo, who grew up in a bilingual household, still hear two languages at totally random times.” She shrugs. “That’s when I decided it was not worth the headache and just accepted this place for what it was.”

We fall into step, moving along the wooden pier shrouded in Shura’s mental veil.

“You remember the rules?” she asks after a short while, eyes going serious.

I give a firm nod. “Don’t linger. Don’t talk to anyone. Don’t touch anything.”

Shura uses her whole hand to point, emphasizing the seriousness of what she’s about to say. “And don’t wander off, but if we somehow get separated and the veil lifts, don’t look for me. Because if you look lost, the Residents will know you’re aware. Just make your way calmly back to the docks and follow the water until I find you. Got it?”

“Can that happen?” I ask, suddenly terrified. “The veil lifting?”

“Sometimes, if the veiler isn’t strong enough,” Shura says simply before pride finds her voice. “But it’s never happened to me. My veils are unbreakable.”

Her confidence reminds me of Finn. He was always the brave one, who’d jump into swimming pools without testing the temperature and try new foods without asking “What’s in it?” To Finn, everything was a new adventure. Maybe he’d see Infinity that way too.

I don’t do anything unless I’ve thought of every possible outcome and every potential danger.