It’s a mini observatory. A flat, open space about the size of a small bedroom has been gated in, its edges lined with garden boxes. A squishy-looking chair has been pushed into one corner, protected by a cream-colored umbrella, and to the chair’s right, as though I’ve conjured it, a telescope.

An actual telescope.

I’m too stunned to move from the ladder. The telescope’s lens is pointed up toward where the moon will be when it rises tonight, and I know right away that when I look through the lens, all I will see is clear, unrestricted sky. Below, branches from the tree shroud the rooftop garden from the street and nearby houses. And I feel it, a feeling so unfamiliar, it takes me a moment to recognize it for what it is. Hope. My heart is racing now, because, honestly, if someone had wanted to create the perfect place for me, something to make me think of my mom and my life before we were separated, this would be it.

I reach for my back pocket, feeling the wire edge of my notebook. I could take so many notes here. I could fill entire notebooks with a view like this.

I know what this is. I know it in my bones, my blood, my soul, my heart. It’s a sign.

Signs come in threes, Mason. And I just found my first one. My hands are shaking, my legs wobbling harder than they were on the bike. I don’t actually believe in signs, do I? Except, a mermaid—the exact kind my mother loved—has pointed to me to what basically amounts to my perfect hideout, complete with a telescope.

What is this?

Fate? a tiny voice whispers. Okay, I can’t quite believe it, but I also can’t discount it. I can’t. Because, what are the chances?

“Mason?” Simon’s voice comes from deep inside the house, and I quickly pull the window shut, lowering myself down the ladder. I’ve just hit the floor when he pokes his head into the room.

“Oh,” he says, looking at the room with awe. His eyes graze over the wallpaper, the mermaid, all the dried herbs. “This place is full of surprises. Look how she designed the room around the painting.”

I’m almost angry that I didn’t notice it for myself. Every color in the painting is reflected in the room’s décor.

“It must be special,” he says.

You’re telling me. My hands are still trembling, so I shove them in my pockets. The mermaid’s gaze is boring a hole into the side of my face, but I manage to keep my eyes on Simon.

“I need to take a look at that huge willow tree outside. They’re water-seeking, and when they get that big, they can cause problems with everything. Ready to go?”