Theo’s eyes flicked upward. “The truth? I think I always knew, at least about myself. But it was that first night at the power station when I saw, really saw, what you had in you. Not just going outside the way you did, because I’m sure that was Lish’s idea. It was the look on your face, like you’d seen your whole life out there. I chewed you out, sure. It was stupid and it could have gotten us all killed. But mostly I felt relieved. I knew I didn’t have to pretend anymore.” He sighed and shook his head. “I never wanted to be Dad, Peter. I always thought the Long Rides were crazy, even before he rode away and never came back. I couldn’t see the sense in any of it. But now I look at you, and Amy, and I know that making sense isn’t the point. Nothing about any of this makes sense. What you did, you did on faith. I don’t envy you, and I know I’m going to worry about you every day of my life. But I am proud of you.” He paused. “Want to know something else?”

Peter was too astounded to answer. All he could manage was a nod.

“I think it really was a ghost that saved us. Ask Maus, she’ll tell you. I don’t know what it is, but something’s different here. I thought I was dead. I thought we were all dead. I didn’t just think it, I knew it. The same way I know this. It’s like the place itself is watching over us, taking care of us. Telling us that as long as we’re here, we’ll be safe.” His eyes met Peter’s with a haunted look. “You don’t have to believe me.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t.”

Theo laughed, grimacing through the pain of his bandaged ribs. “That’s good,” he said, flopping his head back down to the pillow. “Because I believe in you, brother.”

For the time being, they were going nowhere. Sara said that Theo’s leg would need at least sixty days before he could even think of walking, and Mausami was still very weak, enervated by her long and painful labor. Of all of them, baby Caleb was the only one who seemed completely well. Just a few days old, and yet his eyes were bright and open, looking about. He had sweet smiles for everyone, but for Amy most of all. Whenever he heard her voice, or even so much as felt her presence as she entered a room, he would utter a sharp and happy cry, flailing his arms and legs.

“I think he likes you,” Maus said one day in the kitchen, as she struggled to nurse. “You can hold him if you want.”