The hall goes wild, clapping and shouting his name. A group of Autumns in the back wave tiny flames above their heads. Among them, I recognize the couple Doug nearly ran over with the car. Coral, the Summer girl who’d been wearing the blue sweater, curls under Rusty’s arm, laughing as he waves a flame above her head. A few Springs, Winters, and Summers join in with lighters. Holly, the Observatory’s oldest and most beloved cafeteria attendant, dims every overhead light but one.

Julio tunes his strings as he walks to a stool set under the spotlight. Poppy elbows Amber in the ribs as Julio teases out the opening chords to one of her favorite songs. Marie cups a hand over her mouth and shouts for Julio to get on with the damn show already, her lighter held high over her head.

My gaze keeps returning to the door. I hate that Jack’s missing this. After the long days of hard work—after the calluses and sawdust, the aching muscles and paint-splotched clothes—we all look forward to the hour after dinner. It’s a lesson the seven of us have carried with us since our time on the run: a little laughter, a song, a hot meal shared with friends—it’s the best medicine for a battle-weary soul.

Funny, if you’d asked me a year ago if I could ever imagine myself returning here, I’d have told you I’d rather die. Now I can’t imagine living anyplace else. Not because of where we are, but because of the people I share this new life with. I feel them—every soul inside this room is part of me, connected to me, means something to me. They are all a piece of me, and I of them, and I know now what I was never entirely certain of when I made the decision to remain here—that I would lay down my life for every single one of them. In their faces, I see the seven of us as we were. I see who they are yet to become. And that vision of the future sustains me.

A draft blows past my neck and circles my ankles. I turn to see Jack ducking in the door, hoping to go unnoticed.

Julio uses a break between songs to take a sip from his water bottle. He spots Jack slipping stealthily past the tables, and his eyes twinkle with mischief when he shouts, “Give it up for your Chronos, everybody!”

Seasons call out and wave to Jack, beckoning him to their tables. He smiles, waves, and makes a beeline straight for the shelter of the food line. Julio steals back the spotlight, strumming the intro to one of his favorite tunes, encouraging everyone to sing along.