"No," Qebhet agreed with a gentle tilt of the head. She'd never seen Duke Ellington's band, either, because the doors of the Cotton Club had been closed to people of her skin colour. The only Black people there had been the ones on stage. Details like that didn't fit with the glossy picture people wanted to paint of the past, and so were glossed over. Mrs Fuller and Hannah Schroeder, their stories didn't fit into any glamorous narrative, either, and no, it wasn't fair. "But that's only one kind of memory. There are others. It takes memory to tether a ghost to the world, you know. Sometimes they're painful ones, but not always. Sometimes it's just... love."