Bel chose. And she chose right this time. Head and heart and gut. She closed the gap between her and Rachel, eyes fixed on the key, watering because she couldn’t blink, blink and everything might disappear. Bel reached out, fingers gliding through the air, a shiver as she touched the skin of Rachel’s palm. Warm, not cold. She closed Rachel’s hand around the key, into a fist. Skin to skin, bone to bone. Held it there, tight. Eyes on her mom’s. She chose her.
