conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What could be a title for a book about Harun, Freya, Nathaniel with the genre: Teen & Young Adult, Literature & Fiction?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: A title for this book could be 'I Have Lost My Way'
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: the first four paragraphs for this book
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: I Have Lost My Way
  Come, come, whoever you are. Wanderer, worshiper, lover of leaving. It doesn't matter. Ours is not a caravan of despair. Come, even if you have broken your vows a thousand times. Come, yet again, come, come.
  She toggles over to her calendar. "Park and Seventieth," she tells the driver. "Turn right on Third, then left on Seventy-First."
  It's only when her phone makes the whooshing noise that Freya realizes she did post it. The responses start to flow in, but before she has a chance to read them, there's a text from her mother: 720 Park Ave, and a dropped pin. Because of course her mother is monitoring the feed as vigilantly as Freya. And of course her mother has misunderstood. Anyway, Freya hasn't lost her way. She's lost her voice.
  She deletes the post, hoping it was fast enough that no one screenshot it or shared it, but she knows nothing on the internet ever goes away. Unlike in real life.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: four more paragraphs
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Freya hesitates, the look on her face traveling from discomfort to despair, a route Nathaniel knows so well he could traverse it blindfolded.
  Freya has been ordered not to tell anyone about her current issues. Hayden has warned her that it alters the narrative they've worked so hard to create for Freya. Freya is tough. Freya is unstoppable. Freya is destiny. "Don't tell anyone. Not your fans or your friends," Hayden warned.
  She looks at Nathaniel and Harun, staring at her with a mix of terror and tenderness. Staring at her not like strangers but something like friends.
  Harun imagines James finding out about Freya and the incomplete album, and though he only just met her and clearly has nothing to do with it, it feels like his fault, somehow.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: the last five paragraphs
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: In this version, Nathaniel plays softball once a week on a grubby patch of grass with people who already know his name. In this version, Nathaniel is seated at a large dining table, not eating buttered noodles with one other person but sitting with whole groups of people, eating foods whose names he does not yet know, but whose flavors he has always known. In this version, Nathaniel is not leaping to his own death but gently escorting others when it's their time, as Hector had done with Mary, helping them say the things they need to say while there's still breath, helping those left behind grapple with the questions he knows are sometimes unanswerable. In this version, he's kissing a girl whose voice he can hear even when she's not singing.
  He hears her voice. Even with his eyes closed, he would know that voice. He's been hearing it since that day in the forest.
  Thank you to the members of LadySwim™ for support, sisterhood, and steam. Thank you to the Brooklyn Mama (and Papa) Brigade for being my hometown family. Thank you to my parents, siblings, and in-laws for being my family family. Special shout-out to my hospice-nurse sister Tamar Schamhart for inspiring the character of Hector. Thank you to Yosef Ayele for being part of my Ethiopian family. Thank you to Isabel Kyriacou for your ferocity. Thank you to Lauren Walters for All The Things. Thank you to Eric Gordon for ten years of this. Thank you to Lauren Abramo, Kieryn Ziegler, and everyone else at Dystel, Goderich & Bourret.
  Thank you to all the readers, for being large-hearted and curious and willing to enter other people's experiences in fiction. We need that now, more than ever.
  Thank you to Nick, Willa, and Denbele, for inspiring me, constantly, to do better and be better, and for being my fellowship, my family.