This village had fifty years of parades and ages of history before that—more than the people of Nowhere even realized. And it would all be wiped away in one night. I shuddered, trying to shake away the thought, but it clung to me, like cobwebs.

The parade trundled past the only real crossroad in Nowhere, and from down the street, the loud, bright storefront of All Hours seemed to scream out at me not to strip the color from this community. Under one of the coffee shop’s turquoise awnings, Lina hovered, arms crossed. I wondered if she still planned to hock coffee at the party, or if she couldn’t bear to watch it all go down. I lifted a hand to wave to her, but she only ducked her head and disappeared back through the shop’s yellow front door.

“Guess she didn’t see you,” Poe said, joining me at the back of the float. His portrait frame was slung over one shoulder, and he set it to lean on a gravestone.

I lowered my arm, hand clenching to a fist. “Yeah, guess not.”

Poe slumped against the rail, and he looked so sad, I couldn’t even chide him for wrinkling his vintage threads.

“Poe,” I said. “You know how much Reg cares—”

“Don’t.”

“But . . .”

“He already told me.”

I stilled. “What?”

“I know you guys are leaving.”

“Uh-huh,” I said, because I was afraid to say more.

“Back to New York,” Poe said. “Can’t say I blame you. This place must seem so boring to you.”

I placed a hand on the rail to steady myself. I felt off-balance, and it wasn’t from the float rocking down the road. It would have been nice for Reg to keep me in the loop on the tales he’d been telling. But I couldn’t blame him for his little fib. At least making up a story gave him a chance to say goodbye.

“It’s not boring,” I said honestly. “Thanks to you. Thanks to all of you.”

Poe grabbed me up in a surprise hug, and I had to swallow a lump in my throat.

“Reg doesn’t want to leave, you know.” I pulled back to meet Poe’s eye. “It’s me who wants to go home. Reg, he . . . he would probably stay here if . . .”

If it wasn’t for his selfish sister.

I gripped the rail until my knuckles bleached white. Funny how much I disliked that pale shade on my skin now, compared to the warm olive of the rest of my hand.

“He asked me to come with,” Poe said.

I stifled a gasp. It wouldn’t surprise me if Reg fantasized about turning Poe the way I’d thought of turning Dexter, but did he actually make an offer? Was he trying to get permanently stuck here?!

But of course. He was. That must have been his plan, exactly.