Sunday, July 16, 11:15 PM. Amy.

It’s been a blessed day. That makes me sound like a Starbuck’s barista, but it’s the only word I can find to describe these sensations of joy, possibility, and sheer rightness.

Trevor and Daniel have been roaring around like jet fighters, playing like old friends. They work side by side, they swim, they explore, they play with toys, play hide and seek, pretend. Trevor hasn’t had a friend like this in…ever.

Sofia is still too weak to walk more than a few steps. After I helped her get a bath this morning, Claire spent the day beside her on the sofa finding ways to communicate with her. She’s using her Claire-magic to get to know Sofia and understand her and love her.

We couldn’t find a Spanish translator device, but we got a Spanish-English dictionary and they passed it between them all afternoon. We used to have a translation app on our phones but of course it doesn’t work any more. They played a little game where they would point to an object in the room and name it in their language: “lamp,” “suelo,” “couch,” “nariz,” and so forth. They must’ve learned a hundred words today. They laughed, they held hands, they cuddled. I see now how much Claire has been missing a friend her age, a girl she can connect with. And Sofia seems to be equally starved for connection, naturally enough.

We’ve learned that Sofia is thirteen years old. Claire is eleven but they’re about the same size and Claire let her have some of her pajamas. She and Claire are both sleeping in Claire’s room tonight. Sofia still has a dolor de cabeza so I gave her some acetaminophen. Hopefully she’ll be all right. It’s the first night Claire has slept apart from me in months. I’ll go down and check on them whenever I feed Beth.

We went back to the pharmacy to get medicine for the two children. I really don’t know what’s wrong with their stomachs. I only know they look distended and they’re not digesting anything well. I got three different medicines for different types of worms. Judging from the symptoms, I’m pretty sure it’s tapeworms. Poor things. I’m going to start with that treatment and see if it improves matters.

How long were they out there? Could it possibly have been all the way from the Vanishing, nearly a whole year?

So Brewer was right. He was right all along. He always insisted there were other people out there, and there were. I’m so glad we found them. I’m so glad they found us.

It was kind of a miracle.

It’s opened up a whole new vista of possibility to us. Before, we were all alone. We didn’t know whether we would always be alone. Now, we know there are two others left on the earth.

And if there are two, there may be more. There must be more.

I’d forgotten what hope feels like.

Now I feel it. I’m afraid to feel it, afraid to think about what may be snatched away if I allow myself to believe. But I feel again a little glimmer of hope, like moonlight peeking from behind thick clouds, or long-limp sails stirred by the wind. I can’t deny that there’s hope.

We are not alone.