“Yeah, of course.” I try to think of a way to ask a question, get some more information, that doesn’t make me sound like I’ve traveled through space and time. “So how’s Positano?”

“Well, like I said, it’s heaven. There’s no other word for it. When Jenny and Joe couldn’t stop raving about it, we decided, let’s do it!”

Jenny and Joe are Aimee’s parents. In real life, they’re still friends too, but my mom never mentions them to me.

“Oh, you should go to Grotta Fresca, everyone loves it.” I stop myself, wondering if this version of me would say something like that. I know about Positano because every celebrity and influencer goes as often as possible and comes back talking about the amazing octopus they had that was fresh from the sea that morning. “Instagram,” I say to explain.

This works for my parents, who nod. “Okay, we’ll see if we can get a table. If you’re sure everything is okay, then I guess I have to let you go. Jenny and Joe are on their way over, and I need to touch up my face before we all take off. Call me and let me know what happens with Aimee.”

“Will do,” I say, not mentioning how bizarre it is to me that Aimee’s and my parents are in Italy together. Happy. Whole. Unmarred by tragedy.

“Love you.”

“Okay, love you guys,” I say. “Thanks, Mom. Bye, Dad.”

Before she hangs up, I see her face light up at the sight of someone else walking into her vicinity and I hear her say, “Oh, speak of the devil, I was talking—”

The phone disconnects.

A moment later my mom sends me a text.

You seem stressed. Call me back if you need, anytime.

I send back a heart emoji.

Once I get to Dinner Party, I splash my face in the employee bathroom and pick out some chips and a bottle of wine. I grab a small bar of chocolate for myself and a big bar for Aimee, toss them in a gift bag, and close up.

Confusion having built up, I take advantage of being alone by shouting, “What the fuck is going on?” as loudly as I can. Silence answers me. Maureen stares at me.

As I walk back, I wonder about the ticket my mom mentioned. I go through the phone to see if I can find one, and sure enough, there is a ticket from Dublin to Los Angeles. It’s for the same exact time that I took my flight to Dublin from LAX.

Something clicks in my mind and I stop walking.