I hold my remaining cash in my hand. It’s such a thin stack. I’m confident I can make it last for a few weeks at least.
I’m far less confident about everything else, though.
I sink into the back seat with Theo and prepare a quick bottle of formula for him. While he eats, I gaze up at the night sky. The floodlights wash out any trace of stars, so it’s just a big sheet of blackness.
I remember how bright the constellations were when I lived on the Sanctuary. How close the whole sky felt. As if you could reach out and run your fingers through the stars like glitter.
Nothing about those days feels real now. Like my whole world has been lit up with harsh neon, and all the things I once thought were beautiful have been exposed as used, rusted trash.
*
Half an hour later, I’m piloting the c
