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Aisha watched Walter walk away. She watched him turn the corner at the end of the road, and she watched the sky turn to pale pink and deeper blues. Then she walked back, opened their bright green door, and said, "Mak?"

"In here," Esah said.

Aisha walked to her mother's room, pushing Fleabag away with her foot when he tried to follow. "You don't belong here," she whispered to him.

Fleabag scowled, insomuch as a cat could.

Esah was sitting on her bed. She looked almost startled when Aisha appeared in the doorway. "Sayang," she said. "Hungry?"

"Mak," said Aisha.

Esah spread her palms open on her lap and just looked at them. "I don't even know where she is."

June had not made any attempt to contact them after that last day. Esah hadn't looked for her, as far as Aisha knew. Aisha hadn't, because it was June who had left.

June was the one who could have come back anytime.

They hadn't talked about her at all after she'd left. Esah had taken down the picture frames with her in them—Aisha came home one day and found them all gone—and Esah never put them back up. The spaces that were left on the dressers and walls felt like holes, but Aisha and Esah wiped away the dust that accumulated on the surfaces where they had been. There had to be clean, new skin; left-open wounds became infected.

Losing June had hurt like a wound at first, and then Aisha tried very hard not to think about it. The scar had raised itself in time, and Aisha didn't pick at it, because it was new skin and you didn't pick at new skin.

"We can try to find her," Aisha said, and even here, three years later, the scar felt like it would split open. "We could. I think I know where she is. Where she could be."

Aisha stood there in the bedroom. If she squinted, she could easily recall the many memories of her mother curled up on this bed, under this blanket, staring into space. Aisha didn't spend much time in this room, even now, when these occurrences were rare.

"We can try," Esah agreed, looking up from her hands. They didn't say, We have to try; there is no other choice.

There was only so much that new skin could take.

The world found out it was ending on just another Tuesday.

IN A YEAR, the headlines screamed. Back when there had still been headlines. An asteroid heading straight for collision, Hollywood- perfect for the end of the world. It really was like something out of a movie. Sometimes it still felt like a cruel, extended prank. When the news was announced, Aisha had been out with Walter on the beach, everything swathed in golden light, the waves coming in, going out, coming in again. They'd driven out for the weekend, phones left at home. They'd been laughing when people started screaming. Then the beach had emptied like the tide rolling back, quick.

Aisha had thought: tsunami. She'd thought: bombing, financial collapse, mass shooting. Then they'd gotten into the car and driven home silently, and Esah had met them at the lime-green front door and her face had been pale, her hands shaking. Aisha had realized it was all those things at once, and the end of all those things at once.

Here was how the end of the world was predicted to play out: The world wreathed in fire and smoke, everything burning.

Earthquakes and tsunamis shuddering, cracking, shifting what was left. Volcanoes erupting, water corrosive, the very air poison, and what was left: dark, the sun sheathed in unlight.

It turned out that governments had known about it for four years and planned everything from deflecting the path of the asteroid to frantically focusing their efforts on space to attempting to build large underground bunkers—but when none of it seemed like it was going to work, they had all addressed their people at the same time.

These times are dark, the speeches all started, but one thing is to be remembered: The power of humanity to come together and face what is to come is undefeated. Most of the world had watched the broadcast, a video that had popped up while they were scrolling through their timelines or across their screens during their nightly binge-watch. Some people had heard it on the radio, and some on their smartwatches. Some people had woken up to the news.