We could have spent the afternoon assigning blame to each other.

Instead Willa returned with a caterpillar cupped in her palms, and we devoted ourselves to finding it a safe place on a leaf.

It was an absurdly small rescue compared with what lay between us.

That made it a relief.

Before leaving, Willa pressed a sticker shaped like a moon onto the cover of my new book.

“So you don’t forget the stars,” she explained.

I carried that book back to my hotel like it was made of glass.