“Yes,” I said finally, taking a deep breath. Was I even aware of what I was doing? Did I even realize what I was tying myself to? “You’re right, Jacky. Together…” I needed another breath of air. This all seemed overwhelming. “Together, like you said, we can rise… from the ashes…” It seemed a thing that no thirteen-year-old would say—but, in truth, Jacky wasn’t a teenager. She had lived many times before, seen many years pass by, hadn’t she? She was much older than I.

“Oh, thank you!” she said, becoming more like her old self again. She approached like she was going to hug me, but then she stopped. “Mom—mother—you have to understand that I can’t tell you all of what’s happening. I can’t tell you very much, but you won’t be mad, will you?”

Would I? My own daughter (of course, she was truly not my own, but close enough after thirteen years), keeping secrets, hiding her past, from me, her mother. I would’ve not thought it would ever happen, but here it was. We were normally so close…

“No, darling, I won’t get angry,” I said, though inside I was crushed. She wasn’t like her old self at all.

“Well, now that that’s taken care of,” said Kana, “I think we can go, can’t we?”

“You have to tell me some things!” I said. “You can’t just leave me wondering, following in my daughter’s footsteps!”

“Sorry, but, ah, you heard the girl,” stammered Yari. “Can’t tell you all that much. So sorry.”

They disappeared suddenly, and I found myself muttering under my breath, “No, you aren’t.” They couldn’t hear, of course, and neither could Jacky. She saw my angry expression and tried to cheer me up. “Mom, come on, smile,” she said. “No time to pout. We’ve got to pack!”