“I should be, but Mom’s decided to ruin everything,” her sixteen-year-old sister said. Ari let out a sigh.
“She’s just disappointed,” said Ari, realizing that she’d left the party to rehash the same conversation they’d been having since Christmas.
“That doesn’t mean she can control my life! Or stop me from getting to know the rest of our family. I have two parents. I know you don’t like him, and neither does Mom, but he’s our dad. I can talk to him if I want to.”
“But did you have to bring it up at Christmas?” Ari said, slightly irritated as she scanned the doors down the hallway for an exit that would take her somewhere quieter. “You know how she gets.” Ari always found herself trying to convince Anesu to be nicer to their mom.
But Anesu was adamant. “I don’t care howshe gets.Mom doesn’t get to decide whether I see him. I’m sixteen, so I can fly by myself. And since I have dual citizenship, I can go to Dad’s whenever I want to.”
Ari had given up on her dad a decade ago. He’d left when she was eleven, old enough to see him for who he was: unreliable and disappointing. But Anesu had only been six years old. So, despite everything, she still thought he hung the stars. Their motherspent years watching both father-daughter relationships unfold with pained resignation. That was until Anesu announced, first thing on Christmas Day, that, on her request, their dad had not only gifted her plane tickets to spend the February holidays with him in Zimbabwe, but also that he was inviting her there to attend his wedding to the woman he’d cheated on their mom with.
Ari declined the invite, but Anesu accepted it, announcing that she’d be flying out during the half-term holidays. Their mother, unsurprisingly, saw Anesu’s plan to attend the wedding as a grand act of betrayal. Anesu tried to defend herself as she peeled Brussels sprouts, but their mom was already crying by the time she sliced the turkey. The two of them tried to hash it out over roasted potatoes, but Anesu got so upset that she left the table before the gravy could get cold. Ari and her mom spent the rest of the night on the sofa, watching bad Christmas films in a deeply unfestive silence.
Ari knew how to mediate arguments, but with the Olympics around the corner, she’d been forced to pack her bags and leave for boot camp before she could fix things. However, her physical absence hadn’t stopped her family from getting her involved. She’d been fielding calls all week, her sister complaining about their mom and her mom asking what she’d done for her younger daughter tobetray me like this.It was supposed to be her last night of freedom. She was supposed to be celebrating with her friends. But Ari was the reliable one, the fixer, the mediator. The one who stepped in when things went wrong. So, instead of enjoying the New Year’s Eve party, she walked toward theROOF ACCESSsign, pushed the door, and carefully climbed up a set of stairs that led outside. The cool winter air immediately engulfed her.
“All she does is try to guilt-trip me for ‘betraying’ her. But what she forgets is that I didn’t get to grow up with my dadbecause she couldn’t get over things and move on. Isn’t that the bigger betrayal?” asked Anesu, making Ari wince. Her sister was only six years younger, but they seemed a whole generation apart when it came to how they saw their parents. Ari was about to interject in defense of their mother when she heard their mom’s voice on the other end of the call.
“Anesu Shumba, was I a bad mother?” said their mom, who, from the sounds of it, had just walked into the room. Ari knew her family well; this wasn’t the kind of conversation that would end quickly. So, she searched around for somewhere to sit before deciding on a metal step. They were having a mild winter; she hadn’t seen snowfall yet. But the step felt as cold as ice. She knew that in a few minutes, her body would lose all the heat absorbed from being in a packed room full of dancing bodies. So, she promised herself to end the call after five minutes.
Her mother continued, “Who went to all your parents’ evenings? Who nursed you back to health whenever you got sick? Who read you stories, bathed you, took you to swimming class, and made you dinner every day? Me. And your reward is to abandon me… forhim?”
Ari felt a sharp pang of sadness. She hated hearing her mother like this.
“Mama, I’m not abandoning you! I’m just going to a wedding.”
“To the wedding of the man who skipped the country withthat womanwhen he should have been looking after his own family,” she said, enraged.
“But we’re still his family; someone should be there to support him,” Anesu shot back.
“Support him? Support him? That man doesn’t even come to your birthday parties. He posts a check, sends a text, then calls it a day.”
“It’s really not that deep,” said Anesu, who was immune to their father’s small betrayals.
“Arikoishe, your sister clearly wants to kill me, but you don’t need to be a witness to that. So, go and enjoy your party. At least one of us should have a good time tonight,” said their mom, no stranger to exaggeration.
“Why can’t you just be normal about this one thing? All the kids at school with divorced parents get to see both,” said Anesu. Ari already knew where their mother would take that.
“Mwari, ndibatsirei,” their mom said with a weary voice. “Anesu, all the kids at school’s parents live in the same country because their fathers are not good-for-nothing—” But then Anesu, or their mom, or a bad phone signal ended the call.
Ari closed her eyes for a second and then let out a large exhale. “Thank God,” she muttered under her breath as she put her phone back into her bag and stood up, smoothing her dress down, then feeling the goosebumps that were starting to pop on her skin. It was way too cold to be outside in the middle of the night. She was supposed to be downstairs, celebrating with her friends. But Ari wasn’t ready to go back inside, not yet. So, to prolong her return, she decided to get off the stairs and explore the rooftop. It was bigger than she’d expected. It spanned the entire stretch of the building. Part of it was gated off, likely reserved for some private resident. But the rest of it looked communal, with outdoor chairs, winter shrubbery, and a small string of lantern-shaped fairy lights. Her heels tapped the roof as she walked toward the far right end, making her way toward a mesmerizing view.
The sky was black, deep into a winter’s night. But there were thousands of brightly lit buildings, sparkling against the skyline. She could see cars whizzing across the bridges, tiny boats leaving ripples across the inky Thames, and hear the distant sounds ofmillions of people waiting to ring in the new year. It was 11:44 p.m., but she had no desire to go back to the party in time for the countdown to midnight. Not when she knew that Harrison was lurking around the dance floor, no doubt trying to find her.
If she went back downstairs, all her worries would come rushing back. The pressure of becoming responsible for the team’s Olympic dreams. The fact that she’d soon be stuck in St. Moritz with her ex-boyfriend. And the persistent feeling of carrying more than she could handle or shake off.
Eventually, Ari would have to face reality. But if she stayed up here, maybe she could avoid it for the night? So, she sat on the rooftop and watched the skyline twinkle, taking in every single glimmering angle of the night. Alone, but content.
Until she heard footsteps and the click of a camera shutter.
6Drew
DECEMBER 31, 2025
Drew couldn’t stop taking photos. Every element of the party had caught his eye. Elegant dresses shimmering under the disco ball. The early glimpse of laughter in someone’s eye. He’d learned that the best shots were taken a few seconds before he realized a moment was worth capturing. Which is why he reached for the camera around his neck as soon as he walked onto the roof.
The view of London felt like something out of a movie scene. He could hear the faint sounds of cars fifty floors below, and there was a strangely charged stillness in the air that felt almost otherworldly. Like he was in a realm that opened only in the final moments between one year and the next. He couldn’t capture a feeling, but he could frame a memory. So, as he took in the skyline and thought about the moments that had led him to this point in the year, he readied his camera to take a photo.
But then he noticed a person walking across the rooftop. They were perfectly framed by the night sky, their dress and hair gentlyblowing in the wind. So, he adjusted the focus on his camera to blur the background a little and focus on the silhouette.
