“She catches snippets of what they’re saying: how dogs don’t need to live as long as humans, they’re simply so good at finding the joy in life. As if we are put on this earth to extract a certain amount of happiness and can leave once the job is done. “Is that like Papa, Bees?” Pearl asks as they walk away. Maia’s breath catches and her eyes prickle. “Sort of,” she says, and she feels Pearl’s fingers spidering their way across her palm into her own.”