“She asked for help, which is easier than actually wanting it,” Harper said, looking out the window. “Where is she now, even? Drinking her teeth red on wine watching Family Feud, I bet.”

“You never, ever truly know what’s going on in someone’s head. It’s a good idea to not pretend to know,” Amelia said.

Amelia eased onto the ramp and accelerated down the freeway. The woods and hills of the south started to pass by. To the north, all they saw were fields and farms. The plateau of northern Missouri blended into the south here. All the way to Iowa, in the north, there were golden fields and gas stations and little else. Amelia drove with one hand on the bottom of the steering wheel, like she was holding a beer in her lap. Harper tucked her knees into her chest and stared out the window.

“Why’d you divorce him?” Harper asked.

“What?”

“I mean, my mom said it was because your daughter died. I’m reading her book, by the way. It’s really depressing. But anyway, like, just because of what happened to your daughter, most couples still wouldn’t divorce, I think,” Harper said.

“You’re young,” Amelia said.

“Thanks,” Harper said, “but why?”

“It’s hard to explain to someone who hasn’t been there before, meaning, a woman my age,” Amelia said.

“Talk to me like I am one. Try me,” Harper said.

“What do you think love is like?” Amelia said.

“Don’t change the subject.”

“I’m not. What do you think love is like? Like, if you had to verbalize it.”

“Okay,” Harper said, “I don’t know. I think it’s like, this swelling in your heart, right? And it just kind of pours from the inside of you, the deepest part inside, and you just care for someone so much that your heart feels like it’s going to burst at all times and want to be with that person for as long as you possibly can.”

“Not a bad answer,” Amelia said, “for the first part of love, anyway.”

“I’m pretty sure love is just love,” Harper said.