I tug on jeans and tumble out the front door into our courtyard. Butcher is waiting by the fountain. He is always smoking. I take the steps two at a time until we are face-to-face. “I know you,” I tell him abruptly. “I know what you are.”

He takes a drag. “Is that so?”

I feel full of bubbles. I feel drunk. My head is light as air. I think I could float if I tried. “I’ve known you a long time, but I only just figured it out.”

He peers at me. “Be careful with that head of yours. The downfall of every great man has been thinking he knows more than he does.”

I peer back. My bubbles start to pop. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Butcher flicks his cigarette into the fountain. “You don’t know what you don’t know, no matter what you do. Simple as that.” He walks away, disappearing behind his apartment door.

I sit on the lip of the fountain for a long time, watching the sky. There is a pattern to the dark if you look closely enough. But I don’t know if I have the stamina for finding it. I miss Moony’s clockwork world. I miss the smallness of it. The way the earth felt under my feet. I don’t belong there anymore. I know that. I’ve grown, in this city of spice and jazz and ghosts. I’ve been exposed. Contaminated. In the black woods of fairy tales, the trail of crumbs leads you out again. But not in my story. In my story, there is only deeper in.

When I finally go back inside, it is well after midnight. I call Daniel anyway. I must anchor myself to something.

“Cat? Is everything okay?” He sounds sleepy. I can picture him rubbing his eyes, squinting in the dark of his room.

“Come over,” I blurt.

“Now? What time is it?”

“Late.” Is this how my mom does it? When she drags her men back home? I have no grace for this and don’t care. I am alone and don’t want to be. My bed is huge in this small room. I’m tired of incremental progress. I want to surge. I want Daniel. I’ve always wanted Daniel. “You should come over. Stay with me.”

“Where’s your mom?” he asks now. He is waking up. I can hear it.

“She left,” I tell him. “She won’t be back. Not tonight.”

“Cat.” Daniel’s voice changes, deepens. He becomes serious. “What are you asking me exactly?”

I take a breath. “To spend the night. With me. Here. And everything that comes with that.”

He breathes into the phone.

“I want you. All of you,” I say to his breath. I wait.

Finally, he says, “Give me a few. I’ll be there. We’ll talk.”