Sophia met me at the corner of the street.
She had been calling since I left the house and I had not picked up, not because I didn’t want to hear her voice but because I needed those twenty minutes of walking to be mine, just mine, the city loud around me and my bag on my shoulder and my hands in my pockets and my feet moving forward. When she saw me turn the corner she didn’t say anything. She just looked at my face and then she pulled me in, both arms, tight, the way Sophia always held on, like she was trying to transfer something directly through the contact.
I let myself lean into it for exactly three seconds.
Then I stepped back.
“I need somewhere to stay,” I said. “Just for tonight, I just need to think, I can come to yours and–”
“Amelia.” She pulled a face. “My sister moved bac
