“I have to leave in half an hour,” I remind him as he leads us up the staircase. I have to get ready for Sana’s birthday party soon, but we have a cushion of time before then.

“It’s this way,” he says, squeezing my hand.

When we reach the top floor, he crosses a hallway and stops in front of a locked door. When he takes out a lock pick set, I gape at him. “Why do you have that?”

“I forget my keys sometimes,” he says, but he’s smirking. “And my dad doesn’t believe in spares.”

“You forget your keys but not your lock pick set?”

“Hey, you’re the one who kept insisting I was a bad boy.”

I splutter. “There are cameras, Ace.”

“Then you’d better hide me from view,” he says, his smirk widening into a full-blown grin.

I reluctantly move forward, shielding his hands from the camera in the upper left corner of the hallway.

The lock clicks, and Ace pushes the door open. “Come on.”

“Where are we even going?” I ask, squinting into the darkness. “Won’t we get caught?”

“We’ll just say someone left the door unlocked,” Ace says, and I hear the laughter in his voice. “Give me a second and I’ll show you why we’re here.”

He hits a switch, and small lights flicker into existence. He looks at me with bright eyes. “Welcome to the planetarium.”

I gaze around in wonder, reaching out to brush a hand along the walls. I’ve never taken an astronomy class, so I haven’t seen this room in all its glory. Constellations cover the dark walls, interspersed with planets and burning suns. “Why are we here?”

“It’s my favorite place,” Ace says. “It helps me when I feel like I’m going out of my head. I’ll sit here for a while and remember we’re just a small speck in the universe. My failures and worries are infinitesimal in the grand scheme of things.”

“Infinitesimal,” I repeat. “Big word.”

Ace smiles at me, only faintly visible in the low lighting. “Maybe your tutoring is working.”

“Maybe,” I say, still looking around. “You really love space, huh?”

“Yeah.” He sits down on the ground and pats the spot next to him. “C’mere.”

I take a seat and continue staring up at the constellations. I’ve never spent much time looking at the stars, but there’s something comforting about them.

“I love my father,” Ace says quietly, surprising me. I glance to the side and notice he’s still staring at the ceiling, so I follow suit. Maybe this is a conversation best said without prying eyes. “But he doesn’t love me the way he loves Xander. Not since my mom left, anyway. I tried so hard at first, but nothing I do ever lives up to what my brother has already done. I’m tired of trying.”