Grief is a chasm, one I can lose myself in without trying. And yet it’s not quite the unyielding abyss I feared it would be. I thought they would feel farther away—that they would both be lost to me, and that it was what I deserved. But now, sometimes, I feel they are so close, as if they were only in the next room, as if one of them might hear me if I called. It’s not a presence, exactly. But not an absence, either.