A wave of questions is unleashed. What if someone finds it? What if Simon finds it? What if it’s lost? I’m not remotely ready to deal with the thought of it disappearing, so I focus on what I have to do. It’s stupid to go back—my chances of getting caught are too high—but I do it anyway. I run back and scale the dark house as quietly as I can, but when I peek over the top of the rooftop’s railing, my worst fears are confirmed.

My notebook is gone.

I spend the night tossing and turning, my stomach in literal knots that last through my few hours of awful sleep. Eventually, I get up and page through the book Emma left for me, but my mind can’t focus and I end up getting stuck on a quote by Neil deGrasse Tyson, the words etching themselves onto my brain. The atoms of our bodies are traceable to stars that manufactured them in their cores and exploded these enriched ingredients across our galaxy, billions of years ago. For this reason, we are biologically connected to every other living thing in the world. We are chemically connected to all molecules on Earth. And we are atomically connected to all atoms in the universe. We are not figuratively, but literally stardust.

Normally I’d write this in my notebook, but best case it is sitting on a rooftop right now, and that thought sends me spiraling, so I try writing it on my arm. We are not figuratively, but literally stardust. I’m pacing, desperately trying to come up with a plan. Right at this moment, with sunlight pooling up on the floorboards, I’m less sure that the girl and the paintings are signs from the universe and surer that I’ve made a terrible, terrible mistake.

Without my notebook, I’m gravity-less. It’s my one true tie to myself.

I’ve basically turned myself into a black hole, anxiety swallowing every rational thought, when Simon knocks on my door.

“Mason?”

His voice sends an explosion of fear through my body. He’s found out already. Someone saw me scale the house. Found the notebook. Part of me wants to dive for my bed and play dead, but he knocks again, then cracks the door open an inch.

“Mason? You awake?”

Word must travel fast in this city. The owners must have called around, filed a police report or something. Maybe it was the girl? The mermaid girl? Did she turn me in? Somehow they traced it back to Simon and me already. How am I going to get out of this? How am I going to explain the fact that I snuck out? I roll over miserably, get to my feet. “I’m awake,” I mumble.

“Emma and I wanted to talk to you about something. Do you mind coming downstairs?”