"I came to see you."
I do not answer right away.
My grandmother is standing in front of me.
Alive.
The word appears on its own.
Alive.
It should not surprise me.
I know she is alive.
I have seen her since I was born. Heard her voice. Been near her before.
But knowing that is one thing.
Having her here is another.
Alone with me.
Without the rest of the family around.
For a moment, I do not see only the woman standing beside the door.
I see another house.
A table.
Her hands fixing my clothes.
I hear my grandfather talking from another room.
Her voice calling me to eat.
Small memories.
Normal ones.
The worst kind.
Because they look like things I might still be able to have.
I tighten my hold on the book.
No.
Not now.
My grandmother is still there.
She does not come toward me suddenly.
She does not ask me to come to her.
She just waits.
She probably thinks I should do something.
So do I.
"Thank you," I say.
Her expression changes slightly.
"Thank you?"
I nod.
"For coming."
The surprise lasts only a moment.
"You don't have to thank me for that, son."
"Okay."
She walks to the bed.
Stops.
"Can I sit?"
I look at her.
The bed is not mine.
Neither is the room.
I do not understand why she is asking.
But she is waiting.
I shift slightly aside.
"Mm… yes."
Silvia sits.
She leaves some space between us.
That helps.
She looks around for a moment.
Then at the book on my lap.
"What are you doing, son?"
I lift the cover slightly.
"Reading."
"Oh?"
She leans only enough to see it.
"What are you reading?"
"A story."
"I can see that."
There is some amusement in her voice.
"What's it about?"
"A rabbit that gets lost."
"Poor rabbit."
"It was his fault."
That makes her look at me.
"What did he do?"
"They told him not to leave the path."
"And he left it."
"Yes."
"Well. He doesn't sound very careful."
"Then he followed some glowing stones."
My grandmother raises her eyebrows.
"That doesn't sound like a very good idea either."
"No."
"Does he survive?"
"Yes."
"Then he was lucky."
The corner of my mouth moves.
I think I smile.
Silvia notices.
She says nothing.
Thank you.
"Was Marta reading it to you?"
"No."
"No?"
"I read it."
The pause is small.
But it is there.
"You can read?"
I nod.
"A little."
Silvia looks at the book again.
"Well, look at that."
She strokes my hair.
Once.
Gently.
I do not move away.
Not immediately.
The gesture is too familiar.
For a second, I remember the same thing somewhere else.
Another life.
Her doing exactly that.
And I do not dislike it.
That is the problem.
I wait a few seconds.
Then slowly lower my head toward the book.
Silvia's hand slips away naturally.
She does not comment on it.
"How much can you read?"
I shrug.
"I don't know. Some things."
"Can I see?"
I hand her the book.
Silvia opens it and points to a line.
"What does this say?"
I read it.
She points to another.
I read that too.
Then another.
When she moves toward a fourth, I look at her.
"Grandma."
"Mm?"
"I get it."
"What?"
"You want to see if I can really read."
She laughs softly.
"Well… yes."
I lower my eyes.
"Sorry."
Her laugh fades slightly.
"Why?"
"I don't know."
Silvia watches me.
I do not like that.
I wait for the next question.
It does not come.
She simply closes the book and gives it back.
"You didn't do anything wrong."
"Okay."
Her eyes remain on me for several seconds.
Then she looks toward the cards.
"Is Marta teaching you the letters?"
"Yes."
"Does she know you already read?"
I shake my head.
"And you didn't tell her?"
"No."
Silvia waits.
"You don't want to?"
I look at the vowels.
"It's easier to do the lesson."
"Even though you already know them."
"Yes."
"Because it ends faster?"
I look at her.
"Mm."
Silvia smiles slightly.
"I see."
I do not think she completely does.
But she stops asking.
I like that part.
Her gaze moves to the handwriting sheet.
"Can you write too?"
"More or less."
"Let me see."
I climb off the bed.
Silvia moves one hand toward my arm as my feet search for the floor.
I do not need it.
But the contact is gone before I have to decide what to do about it.
I walk to the table.
Pick up the page.
Return.
Silvia looks at it.
"You did this?"
"Yes."
"It's good."
"No."
She looks up.
I point to the a.
"It's crooked."
Then the o.
"That one too."
"Jhosep, you're three."
"Almost four."
Silvia stares at me.
Then smiles.
"Sorry. Almost four."
I am not sure whether she is teasing me.
I think she is.
A little.
"For almost four, they're very good."
I say nothing.
She moves the page.
"Is writing hard?"
I look at my hand.
"It gets tired."
"That really is normal."
"Marta says the same thing."
"Then listen to her."
"Okay."
Silvia looks over the page again.
"You know how you want them to look. Your hand just isn't following you yet."
I look up.
That is fairly accurate.
"It will."
I nod.
She puts the page aside.
"Do you like Marta?"
"Yes."
"I'm glad."
Silvia looks toward the door.
"She talks quite a lot, doesn't she?"
My answer comes before I think about it.
"A lot."
Silvia laughs.
"That was fast."
"Because she talks a lot."
"I didn't say she didn't."
"Okay."
"And Sofía?"
"More."
"More than Marta?"
"A lot more."
Silvia laughs again.
I do not know why.
"But you like her."
I think for a moment.
"Yes."
"That's what matters."
"Though she comes in without knocking."
"That isn't very good."
"And she moves my things."
Silvia puts on a serious face.
"That is serious."
I look at her.
She is joking.
Probably.
"She puts them back afterward."
"Then maybe there is still hope for her."
A small smile escapes me.
I notice too late.
Silvia does too.
Thankfully, she says nothing.
For a few seconds, the room stops feeling quite so strange.
Not comfortable.
Just less strange.
Silvia sets her bag aside.
"Are you getting used to being here?"
I look around.
"More or less."
"Do you sleep?"
"Yes."
"Do you eat?"
I look at her.
"Yes."
She raises one eyebrow.
"I was only asking."
"Marta gives me food."
"I certainly hope so."
"I eat."
"Good."
Silvia studies me more closely.
"You look a little thinner."
I tug at my shirt.
"It still fits."
She smiles.
"Then perhaps I'm wrong."
She does not sound convinced.
But she does not insist.
She opens her bag.
"I brought you something."
I look inside.
"What?"
She removes a folded sheet protected between two pieces of paper.
I recognize it almost immediately.
"Selene?"
"Selene."
She gives me the drawing.
I open it.
The sun takes up half the page.
The house is crooked.
There are too many windows.
Daddy is almost as tall as the door.
One of Mom Liora's legs is longer than the other.
And Selene has a huge flower.
We are all there.
"The flower is her."
"That was my guess."
"She always draws herself like that."
"Practical."
I run a finger over the paper.
"She asked me to tell you she's waiting for you," Silvia says.
I stay still.
"And that she doesn't want you to think she doesn't want to play with you anymore."
"I didn't think that."
"I'm glad."
"She thinks weird things."
"She's three."
I look at her.
"So am I."
Silvia pauses.
"Right."
I look back at the drawing.
"Is she okay?"
"Yes."
"She isn't sick?"
"No."
Silvia smiles.
"The yellow flower is."
I look up.
"The yellow one?"
"Yes."
"She gives it too much water."
"We discovered that."
"She'll give it more."
"I told her not to."
"She will anyway."
Silvia laughs.
"Not much faith in your sister."
"I know her."
"Hard argument to beat."
I fold the drawing carefully.
"You can keep it."
"Okay."
I put it inside the storybook.
Silvia waits.
"Selene asks about you every day."
I say nothing.
"Your mommy does too."
My fingers stay on the cover.
"Is she okay?"
Silvia understands.
"Yes."
She pauses.
"She misses you."
"Oh."
"Mom Liora does too."
I nod.
"And your daddy."
I raise my head slightly.
"Is he working?"
"Yes."
Silvia looks at me.
"And thinking about you."
"Mm."
Silence returns.
This time she does not rush to fill it.
Then she says,
"Your daddy asked me to tell you something."
I look at her.
"What?"
"That you didn't do anything wrong."
I do not answer immediately.
I look at my hands.
"Why?"
"Because no one explained very well why you came here."
I do not like the answer.
Not because it is wrong.
Because I know another part is coming.
"Sometimes, when a child is taken somewhere without much explanation, he may think he did something."
"It wasn't because I was bad."
I try to make it sound like a statement.
Silvia does not hesitate.
"No."
She looks directly at me.
"It wasn't punishment."
"Okay."
"Your parents think you're safer here for now."
"Safe from what?"
Silvia goes quiet.
There it is.
"That part is harder to explain."
Of course.
"But it wasn't because they were tired of you."
I tighten my grip on the book.
"I didn't think that."
Silvia does not argue.
"Good."
And she leaves it there.
She does not try to make me say anything else.
Does not try to convince me.
That helps more than it should.
Then she opens her bag again.
"Selene also left me another assignment."
"What?"
"A hug."
I look at her.
"She said it had to be a big one."
A small smile tries to appear.
"She squeezes hard."
"She also warned me not to do that."
Silvia raises one arm.
She does not move closer.
Just waits.
I look at the gesture.
I know what it feels like to hug her.
That should make it easier.
It does not.
"You can…"
I stop.
"It doesn't matter."
Silvia lowers her arm.
"Then another time."
I look at her.
"No?"
"When you want."
That confuses me.
"But you can."
"I know."
"I don't mind."
Silvia remains calm.
"Okay."
She does not hug me.
I do not understand.
I said she could.
I thought that was enough.
Part of me was even waiting for her to do it.
Instead, she brings a hand toward my hair.
Stops before touching me.
I look at her hand.
I say nothing.
Silvia gently strokes my head.
I stay still.
A few seconds.
Then I lower my gaze.
Her hand leaves.
She says nothing.
Better.
"Selene wants you to come back quickly."
"Oh."
"She wasn't very happy when I told her I couldn't take you today."
"She never likes being told no."
"That must run in the family."
I look at her.
"Which side?"
Silvia freezes.
Then laughs.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"Mm."
"You talk a lot more when something interests you."
I lower my gaze.
"Sorry."
Silvia's smile changes.
"Again."
"What?"
"Nothing."
It does not look like nothing.
Footsteps pass outside.
Silvia checks the time and starts closing her bag.
I know what comes next.
She leaves.
Obviously.
She came.
Saw me.
Brought the drawing.
Now she will go home.
"Are you leaving?"
It comes out before I can stop it.
Silvia looks up.
"Leaving your room in a little while."
I nod.
"But I'm not leaving the Unit."
I look at her.
"No?"
"No."
"You're staying here?"
I look around the room.
Silvia smiles.
"Not here with you. I have another room."
"Oh."
That makes sense.
"Until tomorrow?"
"Longer."
"Two days?"
"Longer."
I frown slightly.
"How many?"
"Two weeks."
She pauses.
"Maybe three."
I stare at her.
Then at the bag.
"You brought clothes."
"A lot."
"That's why the suitcases."
"That's why the suitcases."
Two weeks.
Maybe three.
Lauren must be delighted.
I almost smile.
"Are you going to be here the whole time?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
Silvia takes a moment.
"Because I wanted to see you."
I look down.
"And one afternoon felt too short."
"Oh."
Again.
Oh.
Excellent.
"I have things to do here too," she continues. "I'm not going to spend all day in your room."
That helps.
I think.
"But I'll come see you."
I look up.
"Every day?"
Too fast.
Silvia smiles.
"If you want."
"Mm…"
I try to think about it.
"Okay… yes."
"Then I will."
I nod.
"Tomorrow too?"
My voice comes out quieter.
"Tomorrow too."
"Okay."
Silvia stays a few more minutes.
We do not talk much.
She helps me place Selene's drawing safely between the pages of the book, then stands.
Before stepping away, she fixes a strand of my hair.
This time I do not move.
The gesture ends quickly.
"I'm going to talk to Lauren and see where they put my things."
"Okay."
"Marta should be back soon."
I nod.
Silvia reaches the doorway.
"Jhosep."
"Mm?"
"I'm glad I saw you."
I look at the book.
"Me too."
It is true.
That makes it stranger.
"I'll see you later."
She takes one step.
The door.
Her back.
Something tightens inside me.
"Grandma."
She stops.
"Yes?"
I have nothing to say.
Perfect.
I called her before thinking.
I look at the book.
Then remember.
"The flower."
"What about it?"
"Tell Selene not to give it more water."
Silvia smiles.
"I'll tell her."
"And not to touch it so much."
"That too."
"Okay."
"See you later."
She leaves.
I listen to her footsteps until they disappear.
It is strange.
Seeing her again is strange.
And not only that.
There is something I cannot explain.
But what strange things have not happened to me already?
I died.
I was born again.
People I remember losing are alive again.
And now my grandmother is going to sleep only a few rooms away without knowing that part of me still remembers her from another life.
Thinking about it more will only confuse me.
I close the book.
I check that Selene's drawing is safe inside and put it back on the shelf.
Then I return to the bed.
I lie down.
There is not much to do until Sofía appears or Marta comes back.
I stare at the ceiling.
There is a mark near one corner.
Maybe a crack.
Maybe bad paint.
I watch it for a while.
Then close my eyes.
Only for a moment.
•••
The sound of the door wakes me.
I open my eyes slowly.
I look toward the window.
There is still daylight.
I probably did not sleep very long.
"Jhosep?"
I recognize the voice.
Sofía peeks her head in first.
When she sees that I am awake, she enters.
Her hair is slightly messy and one sleeve of her jacket is pushed higher than the other.
"Oh. You're awake."
I sit up.
"Now I am."
Sofía stops.
"Did I wake you?"
I rub one eye.
"Mm… yes."
She makes a face.
"Oops. Sorry."
"It doesn't matter."
"It does. You were sleeping."
I shrug slightly.
"I'm awake now."
Sofía seems to consider that.
"Well… yes. But still, sorry."
She takes a couple of steps inside.
Then remembers something and looks behind her.
"Come on."
Nothing happens.
"Julián."
A voice answers from outside.
"I'm coming."
Sofía puts one hand on her hip.
"You're right there."
"I know."
"Then come in."
"I am."
Nothing.
Sofía closes her eyes for a second.
"Julián…"
"What?"
"Just come."
"I'm coming."
"No, you're standing there."
"Because you're in the doorway."
Sofía looks down at her own feet.
She steps aside.
"There. I'm not."
Silence.
"Now?"
"Now."
The boy finally appears behind her.
He is much shorter than Sofía, though clearly older than me.
His hair is dark and a little messy.
He looks first at the room.
Then at me.
We stare at each other.
I know who he is.
Sofía talks about her brother enough that his name is not new to me.
She turns toward him.
"See? Nothing happened."
Julián looks at her.
"Yet."
"What did you think was going to happen?"
"Nothing."
"Then stop making that face."
"I'm not making a face."
"You are."
Sofía raises a hand toward his hair.
Julián steps back.
"No."
"I was just going to fix that."
"It's fine."
"It isn't."
"Sofía."
She lowers her hand.
"Fine."
For a moment she genuinely seems torn between leaving him alone and fixing his hair anyway.
The first option wins.
Barely.
Sometimes Sofía seems older.
When Marta gives her an instruction.
When she is paying attention to my meals.
When she has to take care of something.
Right now, she does not.
Right now, she is twelve.
Sofía looks at Julián.
Then at me.
Then seems to remember why she brought him.
"Oh. Right."
She steps beside him.
"Jhosep, this is Julián. My brother."
Julián looks at her.
"He already knows my name."
"Yes, but that isn't the same thing."
"Why?"
"Because I hadn't introduced you."
Julián considers it.
"Okay."
Sofía looks at me.
"And Julián, this is Jhosep."
Julián looks back at me.
I look at him too.
"Hi."
"Hi."
Sofía smiles.
Satisfied.
As though, for now, that is enough.