She can see that Angeni has read her text, but there are no three dots to indicate an incoming reply. She tells herself that’s fine. She didn’t write the text with the expectation of a response. She wrote it to share the truth.
As she puts her phone in her pocket, she feels it vibrate with a notification. It’s a text, but it’s not from Angeni.
Ur ass better be on that ferry
Jay.
When she messaged him from the police station, terrified of what was going to happen, he offered to come to the island. But then Detective Steele let her go. It was late in the evening by then. She went back to Angeni’s house to get her things and headed to the ferry this morning.
I’m on! See you soon
Sasha leans against the railing of the ferry, watching the city come into view. It’s a beautiful, clear day, the skyscrapers gleaming in the light. She takes out her phone to snap a photo and sends it to Jay. Then she taps over to her collection of saved audio recordings from her time with Angeni Luna. There are thirty-three total. She deletes all of them.
She hasn’t decided whether or not to delete the Nurture Mother account. It’s not doing any harm—if anything, it’s doing good. When she feels ready to return to her dissertation, she may weave it into her analysis of the cultural narrative around mothering.
When the wind picks up, Sasha closes her eyes. Out of the blackness behind her lids, she sees the lights of the ambulance driving up to Angeni Luna’s house, the same flashing lights she saw upon learning her sister and her nephew had died.
“I miss you, Daph,” she whispers into the wind.
After she drives off the ferry, she heads straight for Jay’s house. It takes her nearly forty minutes in typical Seattle traffic. When she pulls up, she sees afor rentsign in the front. Jay must have been waiting and watching for her from the living room window, because he comes outside before she steps out of the car.
“Sis,” he says, pulling her into him, holding her tight.
Her eyes well up at the word—sis.
“You’re moving?”
Her face is pressed into his shoulder, so the words come out muffled.
“Told the landlord a couple days ago, and he’s already got a sign up. I can’t stay here,” he says.
He doesn’t have to say why.
They pull away from each other, and Sasha sees his eyes are welled up too.
“You didn’t mention it. I didn’t know,” Sasha says.
He shrugs. “It was kind of impulsive, I guess. Just made up my mind.”
“Where you gonna go?” she asks him.
“I don’t know. Probably stay with my buddy from the station until I can find a new spot.”
The fact that he doesn’t already have something lined up, that he was just that desperate to leave, makes Sasha’s throat tighten.
“Actually, I was thinking maybe we could share a place,” he says. He is looking at his feet as he proposes this. “We can support each other or whatever.”
Sasha can’t hold back anymore. The tears cascade down her cheeks.
“The two of us as roomies? Daph would die,” she says. “And she’d love it. I would too.”
He lifts his chin, and his face breaks into a smile.
“For real?” he says.
“For real,” she says, wiping away the tears. “We gotta keep each other from totally losing our shit, right?”
He laughs. It’s so good to see him laugh.
