I follow, my jaw hanging, watching as she snuggles in on the couch with my cat, chatting with my gran over FaceTime like they’ve known each other their whole lives. I sprawl out next to her, poking her thigh with my toes, because I want attention and I have none. Lennon lays her hand over my ankle, squeezing gently, and I don’t know why, but my chest tightens. By the time Gran is saying good night, her daily crossword is done, they’ve made weekly plans to video chat, and she’s got Lennon’s measurements for a special crochet project, which is exactly as terrifying as it sounds.
