“I don’t know where your parents are,” Alva admitted, hoping the news wouldn’t trigger anything. Somehow she knew, on this point, it was important to be honest. “You released yourself.”

“I can do that?” Rose asked, her voice barely louder than a whisper.

“Yes,” Alva said, nodding hard and unable to stop her tears now. “Yes, you can.”

Rose looked up at the enormous building, and before their eyes it vanished.

“Come on,” she said to Alva, smiling tentatively. “Do you want to fly a kite?”

“More than anything,” Alva answered, and they ran across the grass together, feeling the sun on their backs and summertime freedom in the air.

After that, events seemed to blend together. They flew a kite, raced model boats on the river, lay on the grass, and traced shapes out of the clouds, but everything seemed to happen all at once, so Alva was hardly aware of time passing. Soon the sun was dipping below the low hills on the horizon.

“I’m tired,” Rose said. Over the course of the afternoon she’d grown younger and younger, and her voice had grown older and older, until the woman lying on the grass next to Alva looked and sounded about thirty years old. Alva suspected Rose was emulating her, adjusting her own behaviors until they seemed to fit. “This has been the best day I have ever had.”

“I’m so glad,” Alva said, giving a genuine smile.

“I’m going to rest,” Rose said. “Thank you, Alva.”

“You’re welcome, Rose. Sleep well.”

“I will.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

When Alva came back to him, Sam had been sitting on the landing for a little over an hour. Twenty minutes before, when he had told Alva to come back to him she had murmured, “I will.” Henry had arrived shortly thereafter, but after Sam heard Alva talk to him she had warmed up considerably, and he decided to let her stay where she was. Strength and vitality ran though her, and that was enough. He had to trust her.

It was the hardest decision he’d ever made, and when she finally blinked her eyes and shifted the relief that crashed through him was so violent he couldn’t do anything except stare at her.

“Hello,” she said, her voice soft.

He made some choking noise in response, and she shook her head and sat up. He had enough presence of mind to help, steering her so she was leaning against his chest.

“Alva,” he managed, but she shook her head once more.

“No, don’t talk,” she said. “I have a few things I need to tell you, and it’ll be easier if I get them out of the way at once.”

Her slightly imperious tone sounded so much like the Alva he loved that still more relief coursed through his blood, and he laughed with gladness.