They separated, for a day, and found themselves alone in places that had seemed less lonely together. Janny wandered into a small museum where a single fan spun above an ancient map of the city. She placed her palm on the glass case and remembered being small and fearless, running through Lisbon alleys barefoot. Melinda, alone on a riverbank, listened to the water and felt the shrill hollow her brother’s absence made inside her. She recorded it, then deleted the file because listening had felt like daring the void to answer.