Kevin didn’t want to share a room with their mother. In the tiny house after the divorce, she said they didn’t have a choice.

Spring. Wood anemones opening their petals to greet the sunlight. Lesser celandines spangling the ground in constellations of yellow stars. And most magical of all, bluebells receding in an endless haze.

Something had eaten Jana’s chickens. She stood in the cold red dawn with the smell of blood and cypress sap rich in the air after rain, transfixed in horror.

You arrived at Nav Ur on an emergency shuttle, the Ikosion, at time 26.33.48 by the lunar cycle, on the 403rd day of the planetary year 919 PS.

When David first showed me the basement apartment, I fought the clutch in my chest, refusing to cry. David saw my sour expression, then clasped my hands and kissed me in the mold-scented air.