“I didn’t read it. Barely scanned it,” Rhys told Lexi. They were at the top of the island now, and Rhys deftly steered the car over rough patches, around hairpin curves ghostly with the stunted skeletons of fire-killed trees, and past steep dropoffs with deadly histories. “Just to see who it was from. Can you manage to read it to me now?”
“Let’s wait,” Lexi said. “I get carsick trying to read when the car’s moving. Especially when it’s moving like this.”
“I’m learning new things about you every day,” Rhys said absently. Whenever the road offered a straight stretch, he and Lexi both peered at the sky ahead of them. And so they both saw it at the same time: a buttercup-yellow dot against the blue sky. It rose and rose. “Get the binoculars,” Rhys said. “Try to keep it in sight; if we figure
