The girls thanked Myron, and he made his way back down the stairs. A few moments later, they could hear him chastising Scooter again for another transgression.

Zadie lay down on the sofa while Finn took in the apartment. It still looked like a barn in many respects, with chunky wooden beams poking out of the plaster at odd angles. The ceiling was pitched on one end with dormered windows that appeared to be painted shut. The living area was small—there was only one sofa pushed up against the peninsula of the adjoining kitchenette—and across from the sofa was an old TV that looked like it had last been used when Johnny Carson was still on the air. There was some art on the walls—paintings of fish, mostly—and a couple of Thomas Kinkades.

“It’s like she was never here,” Finn said quietly.

“What were you expecting? That was five years ago.”

“I don’t know … Honestly, it’s hard to even hear yourself think with all the memories in that house.” She picked a small stone statuette of an owl off a bookcase. “They’re all so sad.”

“Must be hard,” Zadie said, staring at the ceiling. “Having to take care of kids all by yourself.”

“Mom did it.”

“For a while, anyway.”

Finn was too tired to argue. Battling echoes for hours had taken a lot out of her. She moved toward the bedroom. “I’m gonna go lie down for a bit.”

Zadie studied her. “Do you feel okay?”

“Yeah. Just tired.” Finn faked a smile and shut the door behind her.

Zadie rested her head back down on the pillow. Her body was tired, but her mind was alert. Mom laid on this couch, she thought. Or at least some version of their mother had lain there. Based on the way Myron had described her, there hadn’t been much left of the Nora she’d known. If she had truly forgotten who she was and that she had a family, could she really be held responsible for leaving them behind?

The thought took Zadie by surprise, but she didn’t try to push it away. She sat with it for a few moments, let it soften between her fingers until she felt a buoyancy in her heart (best known by its street name optimism). Even then, she wasn’t ready to forgive Nora, not yet. It was one thing to know your mom left you; it was another thing to have watched it happen, to have seen each deliberate-looking step in real time. That wasn’t something a person got over easily, but Zadie decided then that she was willing to try.