Chapter 2

The terminal at the Denver spaceport hummed with arrivals, with luggage drones weaving between clusters of travelers. Zora waved wildly the second she spotted Natalia emerging from the docking gate, her blue hair practically glowing under the sterile lights.

“Natalia!” Zora shouted, loud enough for half the concourse to glance over.

Natalia laughed, quickening her pace, and then Sophie was there too, pulling her into a warm embrace. Zora joined in, nearly toppling them all into a giggling knot.

“You made it,” Sophie said softly once they untangled. “First time on Earth.”

Natalia glanced around, eyes wide. “Everything feels ... heavier. The air, the sounds, even the colors. It’s so strange, but ... I love it already.”

Sophie’s smile turned reflective. “I remember that. When I first came from Anastasia, it was overwhelming—too many smells, too much sensation, too much everything. But you get used to it. It starts to feel like home before you know it.”

The three boarded a hyperloop capsule, its sleek interior humming as it shot them toward the city. Zora was in full storytelling mode, pointing out the passing countryside through the panoramic windows. Natalia laughed, eager, absorbing every detail. Sophie leaned back, watching the exchange with quiet contentment.

Before long, they arrived at Zora and Sophie’s one-story home. Zora pushed the door open with a theatrical sweep. “Welcome to our palace. Please ignore the laundry chair.”

Inside, Natalia set down her small bag and glanced around the cozy living room. “It’s perfect. Thank you both for letting me stay here, even if it’s just the couch.”

“You’ll barely notice it’s a couch,” Zora said. “It’s practically a luxury bed if you squint.”

They all laughed, but as Natalia sank onto the sofa, her expression softened. “This ... means more to me than you know. After everything that happened—after Jarl, after the fear—I needed to put that behind me. I needed to find a place where I could start again. I think this is it. I have this feeling, like things are finally going to work out.”

Sophie reached over and gave her hand a squeeze. “You’re not alone this time. That makes all the difference.”

Zora nodded firmly. “We’ve got you.”

For a moment, the three sat together in comfortable silence, the hum of the city outside faint through the walls. The future felt unwritten, but at the same time, Natalia looked ready to meet it head-on.

The front door slid shut as Brian followed his ten-year-old daughter Aleigha down the walk, her soccer ball tucked under one arm. She was already bouncing on her toes with excitement, her ponytail swishing as she talked a mile a minute about which of her friends was going to be goalie today.

A driverless car eased to the curb, its gull-wing doors lifting smoothly. They climbed inside, the cushioned seats adjusting to fit them. The console lit up, displaying their destination.

“Rogers Park, please,” Brian said, leaning back with a sigh.

The car purred to life, merging silently into the flow of traffic. Aleigha finally paused her soccer chatter long enough to smirk. “You know Brice tried to build a drum set yesterday?”

Brian groaned, covering his face with one hand. “Don’t remind me. Pots, pans, the laundry basket ... I think he even dragged in a mixing bowl.”

“And he kept yelling, ‘I’m the new drummer for Zora’s Aurora!’” Aleigha mimicked her brother’s voice, half squeaky, half shouty. She giggled. “He’s such a dork.”

Brian laughed despite himself. “Yeah, well, every great musician has to start somewhere. Maybe someday we’ll thank him for inventing the cookware symphony.”

Aleigha rolled her eyes but grinned. “Not if he dents Mom’s mixing bowl. Again.” Brian marveled at —and was thankful for — the easy way that his daughter had brought her late mother into the conversation.

The car slowed as it approached the park. Through the window, Brian saw a handful of kids already gathering near the soccer field, one parent standing nearby with a watchful eye.

“Okay, champ,” Brian said as the door lifted open. “Remember: no sliding tackles. And don’t try to teach your friends that victory dance you made up last week.”

Aleigha gave him a mischievous grin, hugged him quickly, and hopped out with her ball. “See you later, Dad!”

She ran across the grass toward her friends, already calling out plays. Brian watched her for a moment, smiling, then let the car door close. The vehicle hummed quietly, awaiting his next command.

“I’ll be back later to pick you up,” he murmured, almost to himself, before leaning back as the car pulled away.

Natalia had been walking for half an hour, just letting her feet take her through streets that were still new to her. The air was different here than on Anastasia, thinner but sharp in its own way, and the trees swaying overhead seemed impossibly tall compared to the cultivated greens she was used to. And then there was the wind. A slight breeze, to be sure, but it felt quite different from the artificial wind inside the closed orbiting cities of Venera. She was humming softly — a tune she’d been working on in her head since the hyperloop ride — when something bright and fast rolled across her path.

A soccer ball.

She blinked in surprise just as a ponytailed girl came chasing after it, skidding slightly in the grass. Natalia bent down, scooped the ball up on her toe, and nudged it back toward the girl with an awkward little kick.