"The world seemed so small, before," Ava says, getting Beatrice's attention. She's standing perfectly still, looking over the edge of the Wall at the expanse of land before them, and Beatrice can feel her melancholy. "From my bed. All I really saw was the same room and the same people. Said and did all the same things. I knew there was a world outside, but I never imagined I could be part of it."
Beatrice drifts closer, ignoring the people around them. For some reason, in her mind, she thought the Great Wall would be empty. It always is, in those official pictures, but she and Ava clearly aren't the only tourists wanting to see this particular wonder.
Beatrice stands right beside her, their arms touching. "And yet here you are."
Ava looks at her. "Can you believe it?"
"Sometimes, no," Beatrice admits. "For myself, and for you."
Ava reaches for her hand, hidden between their bodies. "Diego and I used to watch National Geographic a lot," she explains. "We weren't allowed to watch much else when certain nuns were on duty, but Diego wanted to be an explorer when he grew up."
Beatrice meets her gaze. "What did you want to be?"
"Abled."
Beatrice squeezes her hand. "You're here, Ava," she says. "I know many people have questioned why the Halo chose you, because I know it did. It chose you. It wasn't an accident. Nothing ever is. I know there was a reason. I can't tell you what that reason is beyond my selfish desire to keep you, but I believe we should be comforted by the idea that there is a reason."
Ava's eyes study her face, taking in every one of her features. "You say these things, and then I'm somehow expected not to kiss you," she mutters.
Beatrice ducks her head. "When we get to Bali, you can kiss me all you want."
Ava's eyes widen. "Is that an invitation?"
"Only if you behave between now and then."
"I can be good," she declares.
"Do you even know what that means?"
Ava lifts herself up onto her toes, getting impossibly close to Beatrice. "I think you like me when I'm bad."
Beatrice's breath catches. "I like you all the time," she admits. "It's my biggest flaw."
"Well, we can't always be perfect, Bea."
She just hums, not willing to unpack what the implication of that particular word means for her. "Do you want to keep walking?" she asks.
Ava looks around, taking in their surroundings. "There are so many people here," she says, quietly. "Can we just stay here?"
"Of course."
Ava gets a bit closer, almost sandwiching herself between the front of Beatrice's body and the wall. "Did you travel a lot?" she asks. "Before."
"Within the UK, yes," Beatrice tells her. "And when I went to school, I got to see Switzerland. My parents tended to leave me behind for the other trips they went on, though."
"What were they like?"
"My parents?"
"Yes."
Beatrice gives it some thought. "They really weren't around much, and I didn't realise anything was wrong with the way I was raised," she begins. "It was normal, perhaps, in our social circles, to have nannies instead of parents. Not to be seen or heard. Not to exist unless specifically required for social gatherings. To learn every skill I could. To become as useful and talented as I could. To make them want to keep me."
