Zadie wordlessly drifted behind the stranger down the dimly lit hallway with its brass sconces and antique mirrors and teal wallpaper depicting open-mouthed birds perched on flowering branches. She could almost hear them singing; almost see their ruby throats wobble under their tangerine beaks. If this was in fact her mother’s childhood home, then these birds probably knew more about Nora’s life than she did. Something about their beady stares made Zadie more aware of her own quickening heartbeat.

The conservatory was bursting with plants, from long-necked dracaenas to parlor palms and ivy creeping up wooden trellises. The glass walls were cloudy and spotted with mildew, and the tile floors had broken in enough places that weeds had sprouted in the cracks. The room was so dense with greenery that it took Zadie a moment to see her, but there, seated on a garden chair, gazing up through the glass roof, was her mother.

Any doubts Zadie had as to whether she could ever forgive Nora were gone. All she felt was a profound sense of relief.

“Mom!” Zadie rushed over and buried her face in Nora’s shoulder.

Nora did not hug her daughter back. In fact, she seemed barely aware that there was anyone else in the room with her.

Zadie pulled back and looked her mom in the eye. Now up close, she could clearly see the blank space where her mom used to be. It was like looking out the window of an airplane on a cloudy day. All she saw was white.

“Mom, it’s me, Zadie.” Nora gave no indication that she understood. She simply blinked and returned her gaze to the glass roof on which several starlings were now perched.

Jenna appeared beside Zadie. “I think we should talk for a minute.” She gently pried Zadie off Nora and guided her to the other side of a decorative screen.

“So she is your mom, then?” Jenna—her aunt—said sadly.

Zadie’s throat tightened as she fought back tears. “What … what happened to her?”

“I’ve been taking care of her for five years now,” Jenna began quietly. “When she showed up, she was still walking and talking. Couldn’t remember almost anything that had happened to her during the eighteen years since she left home, but other than that, she seemed fine. It’s only been within the last year or so that she’s really gone downhill. She barely recognizes me most days.”

Zadie thought back to the echo Finn had shared with her. I don’t have much time. Nora knew she was losing herself, or at least part of her did. Zadie, on some level, had known, too. She’d seen it that night on the cliff, and still, she’d let her walk away.

Zadie’s breath felt shallow, strained. “Do you know what’s wrong with her?”