“You're not coming with us," I say, realizing."If things were different, I would," Indie says, and when she looks at me, it's hard to hold her honest, longing gaze. "But they aren't. And I still have flying to do." And then, fast, like a fish or a bird, she disappears from the entrance to the hold. No one can catch Indie when it's time for her to move.”

“It could have been different," I say, almost under my breath. If I'd kissed Indie again after she kissed me. If I hadn't known Cassia before I met Indie."But it's not," Indie says, and she's right.”

“If I hold her hand she says, ‘Don’t touch!’If I hold her foot she says ‘Don’t touch!’ But when I hold her waist-beads she pretends not to know.”

“You're smiling," Indie says."I know." I say.”

“I see a glint in her eye as she looks at me and it makes me smile. Hold our breath? she seems to say. Move the earth? We've been doing that all along.”

“We talk for a very long time and I ask her if it gets easier and she says not really, just different. A different duller kind of hurt, the kind that doesn't surprise you anymore. I ask what her parent were like when it happened and she says they have never been the same.”