The phone rings. “Asshole,” she mutters. She picks it up. “Will you let me explain?” “No.” She hangs up.

Janie’s hip buzzes again. Maybe she'll have to have her whole leg amputated, she thinks sadly. That would really suck.

Jacián!" She yells again, and then she says something in Spanish. A moment later he comes down the hallway. "I'm going to tell Grandfather you said that," he says. "What do you want?

And then they kiss. Slowly, gently. Because with the right person, sometimes kissing feels like healing.

Oh baby," he whispers. Steps back. Out of the doorway. His face ashen. He walks slowly back to the kitchen. Leans over the counter. Puts his head in his hands. His hair falls over his fingers. The bathroom door clicks shut. She stays there for a long time. He's pulling his hair out.

Maybe you don't have to remember something for it to be true. For it to exist.

Dreams aren't memories," he says.