The furniture looked new and comfortable, and the lighting was soothing and dim, almost like a hotel lobby. It was quiet and nearly empty, and as the doors zoomed shut behind us, I felt safe for the first time in what felt like hours. All I wanted to do was sink into one of the plush sofas and not think about anything, but Zelda clack-clack-clacked us over to a spa. “There’s a spa at JFK?” Jesse asked in surprise. “What, were you raised in a barn?” Roux asked, but I could tell that she was as surprised as he was. I had always imagined Roux as well traveled, her (real) passport full of stamps from around the world, but it suddenly occurred to me that her parents were the ones who traveled, not her. In fact, it was entirely possible that Roux had never been outside of the United States. It seemed like such a mean thing that I shoved the thought out of my head. I could think about that later, I decided. There was only enough room in my brain for so many broken things. “There are showers,”
