"What is?"
"Being the only story."
Tiana nodded slowly. "Then we write a second one. Not instead. Also."
They sat without hugging for a while, which felt more honest than forcing repair into a pose. When Rochelle found them, she did not fill the silence with chatter. She sat on the ledge and said, "Uncle Darnell is telling the donors about your pantry hours like he's running a campaign. You should come collect your credit."
Novah stood, picked up the crystal. "Credit's fine. Pancakes on Saturday are better."
"Pancakes are booked," Rochelle said. "I already texted Keisha and Sable's mom."
Tiana raised an eyebrow. "You texted Keisha?"
"I did. Adults who interrupt you for good reasons deserve follow-up, not avoidance."
XVII.
Corbin called again near midnight, their time, after the girls had fallen into the heavy sleep of adrenaline spent. Rochelle sat on the edge of the cream bed with the sheer curtains open to a dark street.
"She was magnificent," Rochelle said. "Both of them. Differently."
"And you?" Corbin asked.
"Embarrassed. Corrected. Still me—which is the problem and the material." She rubbed her bare ring finger where the diamond usually sat; she had taken it off to wash her face and not yet put it back. "Keisha said stunned isn't cruel. I'm trying to believe her without using that as a blanket."
"Use it as a floor," Corbin said. "Stand on it. Build up."
"When are you home?"
"Twelve days. I want a debrief that isn't only about the walk photos. I want Novah's essay printed. I want to hear Tiana talk about why she added that sentence."
"She did that on her own."
"I figured. She's got your nerve and my timing." His smile traveled through the phone. "Kiss them for me. And Rochelle—next time a nomination email lands, open it like it's a dress arriving from the tailor."
"I deserved that."