“We doing this?” Grace asked, meeting our eyes. I gave her a nod.

“I’m glad you came,” my father said.

I should have known he’d ask her. They’d been near each other, since Grace had stopped there on the way back from her last mission. While I’d been with my mother, my sister had been with my father. He’d watched his own mother slowly die of cancer but be too stubborn to go. Grace must have visited Valerie, too, at the end. I wonder if she’ll tell me what happened between them.

We made our way to the airlock. Naomi placed the black cube in the centre. The four of us stared through the window at the small remnant of Valerie Black. My sister’s shoulder brushed against mine. Our mother’s left hand hovered over the button to release the airlock exterior door.

A few months ago, I’d have said she was doing this out of revenge. Sending Valerie out into the void alone as a punishment. Instead, thirty years too late, she is honouring Valerie’s wishes.

Leave me out there.

My father’s hand came over my mother’s, and together, they both pressed the button. The interior doors closed. One last pause. An opening of the exterior doors, a whoosh of air, and the airlock was empty. In an instant, she was gone.

We said no words. My mother bowed her head, and my father put his arm around her. The four of us were in the same place for the first time in half a decade. We walked to the observation deck. The few who were there recognised Grace, then Naomi. After a bit of gawping, they left us alone.

“Thanks,” I whispered to Grace, folding myself into one of the seats.

She gave me a half-smile. Our parents sat across from us. Their eyes were dry as they stared at the planet below. I wondered if they still mourned Valerie, despite everything.

I exhaled and looked out the window.

I’ve only been up there a couple times before, but I’ll never grow tired of that view. The blue-green of the oceans, the shifting textures of clouds, the orange of the sun making them look golden. The patchwork of green islands and small continents, all criss-crossed and connected with rail bridges visible even from up here. No hurricanes. No melting ice caps. No wildfires.

We came across when I was fifteen, one of the middle wave of exodus ships. I’ve spent half my life on one planet, and half of my life on another, never sure which one to call home.

Our pasts, our histories all faded as the four of us stood together, and watched the sun set over Cavendish.

Acknowledgements

Note: the below has some spoilers for plot points of Goldilocks.

These will be my longest acknowledgements to date—there are so many people to thank for Goldilocks. Buckle in!