Luna’s POV
The chilled air of the hockey rink bites at my face as I step inside the arena. I hold Beth’s small hand tightly in my own as she bounces beside me, still hyper aware of her disappearing act last week.
I look around us as we stand on the top step of the bleachers. Without the thousands of spectators filling the stands, the cavernous space feels impossibly massive. Every bit of Beth’s excited, bright chatter echoes loudly off the thousands of empty seats around us. We make our way down the concrete steps, heading toward the front row directly beside the home team benches, and sink into our seats right behind the thick, scuffed wall of plexiglass.
I glance down at Beth, whose sneakers are dangling a few inches above the floor, kicking back and forth against the metal stands in
