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JOSEPHINE

"There you are." The glass door swings shut behind Jeremiah. His cheap dress shoes squeak against the concrete as he crosses to us. "Katherine is looking for you."

"Is she?" Usually, I'm glad to see my sister. Sure, we fight like cats and dogs, but I love her to pieces. Even if she has a blind spot when it comes to making sure I'm well fed.

But every time she asks how I feel about the wedding...

I am happy for them.

Jer is great. Sweet. Funny. Caring.

He's madly in love with her.

But I can't tell if she feels the same way. Or if she's fixated on the idea of grabbing onto love.

Maybe I'm finding problems where there aren't any.

So what if this is the anniversary of our parents' divorce?

It's also prime wedding season.

The end of her semester.

It doesn't have to mean more than that.

"Yeah." Jeremiah smiles, oblivious to my clenched teeth.

Oblivious to the heat in the air. It's freezing tonight, but right now, with Hero three feet away?

I'm burning up.

God, look at me. Calling high sixties freezing. Twelve hours home and I'm full on Californian.

Don't get me wrong. June is a picnic in Seattle. Blue skies. Warm breeze. Dry air. Rain is November through April. May is on and off. But come June—

The city springs to life.

Between the water and the tall, glass buildings, everything is blue and shiny and beautiful.

And then there's Dad's pool.

So much like this one—always empty (it's a travesty, really)—but so different too.

That rooftop pool is everything about my new life. A sleek condo. The sounds of the city. The lush green trees that scream Pacific Northwest.

Friends from school hanging out on the plastic patio chairs, trading gossip and sipping locally roasted French pressed beans.

Whispering oh my God, Josephine! Is your dad single? I'd kill to live here.

I'll be a great step mom (okay, maybe just Tracy for that one).

But this pool...

It already belongs to Hero. To Josephine and Hero. To the past scattered across Southern California.

"Josephine?" Jer's voice pulls me back to the moment.

It's obvious.

There's no line separating past and present.

There's no old version of Josephine.

I'm right here.

And he's...

God, I don't know.

He seems okay. I think. But Hero has always been the master of calm detachment.

I hurt him when I left. I know that.

But I have to know I didn't destroy him.

That he put himself back together.

That he's okay.

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