And moths begin to land on me, but I’m not afraid. Because these moths are familiar to me—or at least, their whispers are. And as they crawl and whisper over me, I begin to remember.

Little One is searching, searching for something, along the walls and tunnels that are coming apart.

And then I see a small luminous figure hovering and staring up at us. Little One swoops a wing at him, and brushes him onto her back beside me. And again, we fly up, up, up.

As the cavern bursts open, we soar into the open air.

The moths—millions of them—go with us. They flee in all directions, filling the dark sky. I watch them in disbelief.

“What are they doing?” I ask.

And the ghost boy (his name is Ebb, I remember; things are coming back fast) says, “I think they’re going home.”

I look upward again.

Have we set them all free? Could something that wonderful really be possible?

Flying through the air toward home, we soon see a small figure below us, a blond and freckled girl walking home through an enormous forest. She has a long way to go.

Little One dips. She takes Germ gently into one claw, and lifts her up, and soars.

CHAPTER 30

We land in my backyard, on the beach at the bottom of the cliffs. It’s almost dawn.

Little One bends a wing so that Germ, Ebb, and I can slide onto the grass, and then she straightens up again.

“Thank you, Little One,” I say, and turn off the flashlight, and she disappears. I know that no matter what, I’ll be able to call her back when I need her.

Germ and I hug each other. Ebb swirls around in a circle, extra bright.

“Tell me everything,” Germ says.

So we tell her all that happened after we left her: the tunnels of the cave, and the hoarded old things, the canyon full of moths, the cocoon, and the witch. And then, when I get to the dark room and my lost memories, I pull Fred out of my pocket and slip him onto Ebb’s hand, and tell them both the rest. How Fred’s words filled my empty places. How they made me imagine things I thought were impossible.

All the way home, moths have been returning memories to me. It feels almost like the memories never left. I suppose the same thing is happening to people all over the world—as the escaped moths spread out across the sky and around the globe. At least, that’s what I hope. I hope that lots of people are still there to receive the memories that were taken from them.

Ebb looks down at Fred in his hand, petting him gently on his head, then slips him onto his shoulder. The sun is rising, and they have to go.