When the Moon was Ours by Anna-Marie McLemore Page B

had fallen to the floor.
    Miel bent to pick it up.
    Aracely’s steps clicked on the wooden floor, and Miel looked up. Aracely was rushing toward the front door.
    Miel followed her outside, the air cool and green with the smell of grass and light rain.
    But Ms. Owens had already started her car. In the distance, the taillights were growing smaller.
    â€œJust let her go,” Miel said. “She’ll come back.”
    Aracely turned to her, so close Miel could smell the amber of her perfume. “You told me you were ready. You told me you could do this.”
    â€œI thought I was,” Miel said. “I just wasn’t paying attention for one second. I’m sorry.”
    â€œDo you realize what you’ve done?” Aracely looked stricken, possessed, like she’d witnessed sons and daughters scratching out the names on their family’s headstones.
    â€œI’m sorry,” Miel said.
    â€œGreat,” Aracely said. “You’re sorry. Well, that solves everything, doesn’t it?”
    Miel felt the aftertaste of her own apology turning, growing sharp on her tongue. “Look, if you’re so mad at me, why don’t you call Sam?” she asked. “He’s better at helping you anyway, right?”
    â€œSam.” Aracely’s laugh was a sharp inhale, almost a gasp. “You wanna talk about Sam? How do you think he and his mother have kept that secret this whole time?”
    â€œWhat are you talking about?” Miel asked.
    Aracely grabbed a handful of Miel’s sweater and tugged her close, more like she didn’t want anyone to hear than to shake Miel.
    â€œEmma Owens is the only one who’s seen his real paperwork,” Aracely said, her teeth half-clenched. “She’s the reason he’s registered as Samir and not Samira.”
    The grass under Miel felt soft, like it would turn to water and pull them both under.
    â€œWhat?” she asked.
    â€œDid you think we got lucky this whole time?” Aracely asked. “That the school just took his mother’s word about his name and his date of birth? Sam’s mother got away with saying she didn’t have the papers for grade school or middle school, but they wouldn’t let it go for high school. They wouldn’t register him without official documents. So I called in a favor, to the one woman who’s on that table more than anyone else. She owed me. She’s the only one who knows his birth name. And she’s kept quiet because of everything I’ve done for her, but now…” Aracely’s words trailed off, and she looked down the road Ms. Owens had left by.
    Now Aracely had failed. So many flawless cures, as much mercy as medicine, and now she had failed. It hadn’t just been Aracely’s good name resting on her giving a remedio so skilled it felt like a soft, shimmering dream.
    It had been the secret name Sam didn’t want anyone knowing. And it was Miel’s fault.
    Dread billowed through her.
    Aracely went back inside.
    â€œCan you fix this?” Miel asked, going after her.
    Aracely slid into her coat and lifted her hair out from under the green velvet of the collar. “I don’t know.” She grabbed her car keys. “But you better hope so.”

 
    marsh of sleep
    Pain sparked through Miel’s wrist, startling her awake. She shuddered at the feeling that there were words she’d just heard, but that she’d been too asleep to hear them, and their echo had become too weak for her to catch now.
    She scrambled from where she was curled on the sofa, waiting for Aracely to come home, and she sat up.
    â€œAracely?” she called toward the door.
    She was still breaking through the feeling of being half-asleep. But through the blur she saw the deep red of Ivy’s hair.
    Ivy was standing over Miel, staring at her wrist. Her eyes looked gray as the pumpkin Peyton had held that night by the water tower. Her expression