“And he’ll know he isn’t in charge,” Sol added. Zed remained silent, unconvinced that Theo’s participation was even up for discussion. She trusted Theo, but Kai had shown her the text messages that had led to their breakup. For a month, he’d transformed all of their correspondence into a repository for his guilt. Their standard “good morning” text became a nightmare exchange, with Theo detailing his latest fiendish dream—often some bizarre mélange of Six Flags, cars, and columns of fire: a giant bonfire in the Six Flags parking lot, The Georgia Scorcher, a roller coaster, becoming a Transformer wreaking havoc in the city.

Other times, Kai would text him, “What u doing?” and he’d say, “researching,” then send reams of links about the bombing, sometimes the same link over and over. The worst was when Kai would ask him to hang out. He’d insist that she drive, knowing she’d have to borrow her parents’ car, claiming that he couldn’t risk being caught in his car. The dude was shook.

Glen Iris morphed into Randolph Street as they crossed over Freedom Parkway. Ten minutes later, Randolph terminated at Edgewood, their destination. Theo and Kai crossed the street, nearly disintegrating as a herd of bikers dispersed and reformed to get around them, one biker shouting about the obviousness of the newly painted bike lanes. They did have quite a gleam, Zed thought, wondering if there was a brand of spray paint that could reproduce that civic glow.

After looking both ways, Zed, Apollo, and Sol joined Kai and Theo across the street, Zed reclaiming her position at the front of the pack as they headed west. Zed was glad to see that traffic was light. After a few blocks, they slinked into a gravel-strewn parking lot, the home of a mural of a giant smiling owl, beaming from the bricks of a peppy new building, an art gallery. Brown and yellow feathers adorned its meticulously drawn body, a concert of shadows, colors, curves, and edges. A lone streetlight illuminated the lot, which smelled of cheap beer and leaked coolant. Zed smiled back at the owl, arming herself with a rock, tossing it and shattering the light.

She dropped her bag and removed her sketchbook and her copy of the city’s list of approved murals, verifying she was in the right place. This was the spot.

“So, this is it,” Theo declared, a statement more than a question.

“This is grade-A street art,” Sol said, sneering up at the giant owl. “The pride and joy of the great city of Atlanta, home of the street art revolution,” she continued.

Everyone laughed except Apollo, who quickly responded. “I think it actually looks pretty all right. Owls are symbolically wise. This owl smiles. He doesn’t let knowledge bring him down,” he said.

Zed wasn’t surprised.

“Hmm,” someone said, probably Kai, declining to take the bait.