months when Annie and Jace break away from the nest and fly on their own.

Of course, it’s to be expected. Time and the pressures of life make it necessary. Like basalt to

granulite, mudstone to slate, limestone to marble, kid Jace will turn into adult Jace.

Kid me will turn into adult me.

“Do you know where you’ll go to university?”

She puffs up her pillow. “I think I want to study psychology and go to Victoria University. Vic has a

great program.”

My broad smile cracks the dried tears on my face. “You’ll be staying in Wellington?”

“Yeah. I want to try flatting though.”

“Oh. Yeah. That makes sense.” Please don’t leave me alone!

“But I’ll come for dinner sometimes. You can hang wherever I’m living too.”

“Okay.” It’s not okay, really. But it’s all I have.

Will Jace offer the same thing? Or did I ruin it with my declaration?

I place the stone on the corner of the pillow between us. “I wish things didn’t have to change.”

travertine

Lila’s operation to remove the tumor was a success, and a dark cloud has lifted from our house.

Rays of sunlight stream through the windows.

Dad and Jace embrace in the foyer over Lila’s hospital bag. Annie and I huddle in like we’re rugby

players. Like Jace, Dad looks ragged. He’s barely slept the last months, and healthy eating hasn’t been

his biggest priority, no matter how much Annie and I nag him to stay fit.

“Thank you,” Dad says. “Thank you for all being there. For showing us what a strong family we

can be. I love you. I love you all very much.”

We huddle amongst his words and love, then slowly break apart. Dad and Annie move to the

kitchen for tea while I sneak upstairs to peek through Dad’s bedroom door. Lila is curled up on the bed

holding a framed photo.

Jace glides to his piano and plays bright, cheerful music.

Lila shuts her eyes and breathes it in. She smiles.

The light is back.

ironstone

The days fly by with school and the routine of home life.

The nights, however, are long.

Too much time to think, to hope, to despair. The women I love are shining brighter than ever.

Lila, with new strength and spirit; Mum, with passion and adventure; Annie, with bright confidence and

maturity. They seem older, wiser, happier.

But I’m not happier. I wonder if Jace has forgotten our last moment together. He’s never brought

it up, and he hasn’t changed his behavior. He still steals me away and drives us to the beach to pig out

on ice cream. He still laughs at my Bert and Ernie misadventures. He still finds rocks and stones for me.

He still wraps an arm around my neck as we walk barefoot in ocean tides.

Twice, he’s even crawled into my bed when he couldn’t sleep.

But not a single word about that night.

I ponder Jace’s silence as I line a fake coffin with red velvet in preparation for Dad’s Halloween

birthday.

Jace is supposed to be showing Annie the best keys on the piano for a haunted house tune, but he’s

playing Rocky Horror Picture Show’s Time Warp instead.

“Madness takes its toll,” he sings, his low pitch prickling my skin.

Annie joins in but the music stops when Dad clears his throat.

Lila slips her hand into Dad’s, barely containing her smile.

“We have some news.”

Jace clutches the edge of his piano stool so hard his knuckles go white.

“Good news,” Lila says and bites her lip. “Doctors say I’m good.”

Jace leaps off his chair. “You’re good?” He hugs her before I can comprehend what she’s said.

Tears rim her eyes, and that smile finally breaks loose. “I’m good!”

Later in the evening, after the festivities, I find Jace in his room clutching an unopened brown

envelope.

“What’s that?”

“Nothing. Just something for university.”

He hides it in his desk drawer.

I sit on the edge of his desk.

“Where are you going for university?” I ask. We’ve avoided the topic for months, but now that Jace

has graduated, we can’t hide from it any longer.

I hold still.

“I . . .” He looks down at the rip in my jeans. “In some ways I want to stay in Wellington and go to

Vic.”

“In some ways?” His words make me shiver.

He closes his eyes. “But I applied to Otago last week and got accepted.”

I cannot make a coherent thought. “Dunedin?”

He nods.

“Your mum and dad know?”

“I told them to keep it quiet.” He opens his eyes. “I wanted to tell you myself.”

“So it’s six weeks and goodbye?”

“We can talk on the phone. I’ll be back for winter holidays and Christmas.”

Only twice a year?

I exhale slowly. My belly feels hollow, and I want to throw up.

I leave his room and hurry outside. The path jars my every step thanks to the thin sandals I shoved

on. Jace shouts from our balcony. I want to ignore him but I traipse over the moat toward him, cutting

an angle to the side of the house. “I’m sorry,” he says, leaning over the rail.

I shrug. I need to get out of here. “Yeah, yeah. Hey, can I borrow your car?”

Jace leaves and returns with his keys, which he stuffs into an envelope and seals with a swipe of his

tongue before handing to me.

I don’t open it until I’m at his car. Leaning against the roof, I pull out his keys, and then the note.

Forgive me.

I’ll miss you. Stay strong.

Sorry it’s not an opal.

I tip the envelope upside down, and a small stone tinkers onto the top of the car. Not much bigger

than my thumbnail, a teardrop of matted red and black ironstone.

I clutch it tightly before carefully sealing it into the envelope and slipping it into my pocket. I hop

into the hatchback, and drive.

And drive.

And drive.

garnet

Dad and Lila left for a long weekend getaway to a beautiful beach in Brisbane. After the year

they’ve had, they deserve the break.

I convinced Annie to stay at Mum’s for the four days. Quality time, I said, to do girly nights and

female fraternizing.

The truth is, Jace and I want the weekend alone.

Time is winding down. After this weekend, we only get one week to live together. We’re on the

precipice of change, and we want to spend the last moments together, pretending we’re not going to fall.

We get up early to hike the town.

On the last stretch to Oriental Bay, I find a flawed fragment of garnet and run its sharp side along

the pad of my thumb.

“Let’s have a look,” Jace says, stealing it from me and holding the red stone up toward the light.

“Fool’s ruby?”

“Garnet.”

He throws it toward the paua-blue sky that is streaked with long, wispy clouds, and it tumbles back

down to him like a bloody raindrop. “And?” he says, catching it, a stupid little grin quirking his lip.

“Surely you know more than that?”

I knock into his side as he throws it up again. I miraculously catch it as Jace stumbles, spraying

sand in arcs toward the frothy tide.

“It’s a stone of truth,” I say to my fallen friend, extending an arm. He’s laughing as he takes it.

“Really?”

“It helps release it.” We make our way up the boulevard toward the café where Annie works.

“Sometimes the information learned is painful but the garnet ensures that those truths are what the

seeker needs to know.” Jace stops walking and I turn back to him. The curious frown etched between his

brows is the same single line that Annie has when she’s unsure and a touch uncomfortable. “You all

right?”

Jace folds his arms over his cassette-tape T-shirt, and I wait for him to speak. He stares at my hand

encasing the garnet. “If you don’t learn a truth, does that mean you don’t really need it?”

I throw him the stone and he’s quick to catch it. “I don’t know.” He catches up to my side and we