“Yeah, Dad,” she said as we turned into the kitchen. A tall man in a tie and button-down stood at the sink doing dishes. He froze, wide-eyed, when he saw me. At the table, a guy who looked like an older, male version of Diya sat with a gigantic meatball sandwich in his hands. He was staring at me, too.

“Hi?” I said awkwardly.

“Alina, that’s my dad, and that’s my brother, Jai. We’re going to do homework,” she said, turning to leave, but her dad wiped his hands on a towel and came over.

“Alina! Welcome! Great to meet you!” He pumped my hand vigorously. “Are you a senior, too? Are you in the musical?”

“Um…”

Jai grinned at my overwhelmed expression. “Diya normally repels people, so we’re just a little surprised you’re here,” he said.

Diya narrowed her eyes. “I’m surprised you’re eating that when Mom’s on her way home.” She turned to me. “Jai doesn’t want his mommy to know he’s not a vegetarian.”

“Let’s get a picture, in case this never happens again,” Jai said, standing up. “I’ll get the camera.”

“Shush.” Mr. Rao waved his hands at Jai before turning back to me. “Want anything to drink, Alina? We have soda or lemonade. Actually, you guys go ahead. I’ll bring both down, with some of those cookies from Wegmans.”

Wow. Wegmans cookies. He was really rolling out the red carpet. It reminded me of how my parents treated Margot when she came over for the first time after my injury.

I shrugged off the memory as Diya led me down to her room in the finished basement. “Sorry about them,” she said, gesturing upstairs.

“They seem nice.” I looked around Diya’s room, which had huge posters hung up in evenly spaced intervals. They were for different shows, musicals I assumed, most of which I didn’t recognize. The Fantasticks; Anything Goes; My Fair Lady; Oklahoma!; Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812; Hamilton; and a bunch more. Some looked new, and some were curling at the edges, like she’d put them up a long time ago.

I sat on Diya’s desk chair and she sat on her floral bedspread. “I took the basement room so Jai wouldn’t whine about me singing all the time.” She pulled out her hair tie and slingshotted it across the room. It landed smoothly on top of her dresser. “He’s only home from Penn State during breaks now, so I could have moved upstairs, but I like it down here.”

I glanced at the posters again, and the bulletin board above her bed covered with ticket stubs and photos of her in different costumes. Her walls were a shrine to her dream, like mine used to be. “It’s a good room,” I said quietly.

“Thanks.”