Jude gave me a long, considering look. “I asked Mom about my father once.” He paused. “Just once. It was right before you came to live with us. I had formed theories, you see, mostly involving astronauts, but also the occasional space alien taking on humanoid form.”

I could see a teeny tiny Jude saying exactly that.

“She told me that she’d loved my father, and that he’d loved her, and that she knew for a fact that he would have loved me. And that was it. She neither confirmed nor denied his astronaut status, but that night, when I went to get a glass of water from the kitchen, I saw her. She was crying—not sobbing, exactly. It was more like her eyes were malfunctioning—leaking. I remember thinking that the leak might never stop.”

Even as a child, Jude would have eaten his own hand to keep from seeing Cady like that again. He never asked for more than you could give.

“I’ve been keeping secrets from you.” The admission slipped across my lips.

“I know,” Jude replied airily.

That was all it took for the secrets to come pouring out. I told him about Gabriel’s maps and notes, about kidnapping and assault. I almost told him about the conversation I’d had with Cady the night before, but I hesitated. That might not be my secret to tell.

“I think Cady would answer your question now,” I said instead. “If you asked her who your father was.”

“And that,” Jude said, “is exactly why I won’t ask. She’d answer, but it would cost her. And for what?” He tweaked the end of my ponytail. “I have all the family I need.”

Up ahead, NATO dropped to his belly, pushing his head under an old log and letting out a joyful bark.

“Methinks he doth found something,” Jude said, wiggling his eyebrows. “Or rather, someone.”

“Get off of me,” Free said, shoving NATO gently as she pulled herself out from her hiding place. “You big, slobbery mess,” she crooned, pouncing on him as she made it to her feet. “You clever, clever boy.”

Unlike Saskia, NATO wasn’t trained to loop back. He worked primarily on a lead, and Jude was never far behind, so he just kept barking until Jude and I caught up.

“Well done, my good man!” Jude said, adopting a very poor British accent. NATO leapt up to press his front paws to Jude’s thighs, to which Jude replied, almost immediately, “Shall we waltz?”

The sight of Jude taking NATO’s paws in hand and beginning the world’s most awkward ballroom dance jarred a laugh out of me. Eventually, Jude let go of NATO’s paws and whirled gracefully back to Free and me. “Who’s next?”

“For dancing?” I asked, wrinkling my nose. “Or Extreme Hide-and-Seek?”

Jude kept right on waltzing. “Dealer’s choice!”