“You said the cards don’t lie.”

I see us in his kitchen, me pointing to that card.

So, the Chariot is about perseverance. To not give up on this thing you want, even if it seems impossible. It’s all about creating a big change in your life. So whatever this thing you want is, you’re going to have to be all in …

That slow smile of his spreads across his face. The hurt is still there, the longing. The terror of the past night, and all the nights before and to come.

But those are just cracks that let the light in.

It is so bright.

47

Mae

ISS Location: Low-Earth Orbit

Earth Date: 10 June

Earth Time (PST): 11:15

The Three Sisters in Orion’s Belt was one of the first constellations I ever learned. They’re super bright, very easy to locate.

The sisters help you orient yourself.

Dad holds my hand up to the sky and traces my finger across its surface.

“Orion’s the Hunter,” he says. “There’s his bow and arrow. See? And there’s his head. His chest. And those three bright stars—that’s his belt.”

“To keep his pants up?”

Dad laughs. “Maybe. But, in ancient times, a belt could be very valuable—made of gold and jewels, even. So that belt is probably very precious to Orion. In fact, the Arabic word for the stars in the belt means ‘string of pearls.’”

“That’s a pretty fancy belt.”

“It is, indeed. Many people call Orion’s Belt the Three Sisters. I think I like that better.”

“Me, too,” I decide.

He presses my finger against each one, and I swear I feel the white-hot heat of those blazing pearls all the way down here on the beach.

“Alnitak. Alnilam. Mintaka. Whenever you’re lost in the sky, just look for them. They’ll help you find your way.”

Hannah and I have asked Rebecca Chen to bring Pearl to the children’s room in the central library in downtown LA, just off the atrium where we had Mom and Dad’s memorial service. We arrived early and chose a table in a little corner, where hopefully no one will bother us. I have no idea what to expect—not a confrontation, I don’t think. We’re here to see Pearl, not get into it with our dad’s … with Rebecca. But still.

Aunt Nora is at a nearby cafe, waiting for us.

We’re sitting at a small wooden table by the picture books. I have been slowly spinning the globe that is on the table for the past fifteen minutes, my fingers running over the bump of Malaysia, traveling across the sea to Boston, across America to Los Angeles.

I am nervous.

“We should have played poker,” I say.

“What?”