I don't know why. Morbid curiosity? The need to see proof that she was really gone here?
The cemetery was quiet. Her headstone was simple — just her name, dates, and a quote: "The universe is not only stranger than we suppose, but stranger than we can suppose."
I sat there for an hour, talking to a woman who wasn't my Nina but wore her face.
"I don't know if you can hear me. I don't know if parallel universe rules allow for this kind of thing. But I'm going to find a way back to her. To my Nina. The one who's alive. The one who sent me here without asking."
I paused.
"I'm going to be so mad at her when I get back. And then I'm going to hold her and never let go."
A voice behind me.
"Talking to her helps, doesn't it?"