“I still don’t understand, though. About your age, and—”

“Ah, if you wouldn’t mind, Alex,” his grandfather said, rubbing one wrist wearily across his forehead, “I need to concentrate on driving. We can talk more, I promise. But I’m a little tired now, and these small roads can be difficult in the dark. We’ve probably had enough to chew on for the moment, anyway. Is that okay, son?”

“Okay.” Alex nodded. He felt exhausted himself.

“Good man. Maybe you could try more with the tablet? I’ll let you know if you, y’know. Disappear. Ha.” The old man flexed his left hand repeatedly on the wheel, as if trying to ease a cramp. He sounded his cheerful self, but Alex caught the uneasy undertone.

“I’ll try.”

The toy robot on his lap grinned through the gloom. Alex took a breath, tried to put everything else aside, and forced himself to consider the problem calmly. He had done it before, as the old man had said. He could do it again. He focused on the empty eyes.

He gave up after a minute. His simmering brain felt close to boiling over. The madness of his grandfather’s conversation was one thing. But there was something else. For months, Alex had lived with the belief that the tall man was his father. It had been practically the only thing he had thought about. There had been fear, confusion, and guilt in it, but also one sharp, solid truth: that, just for a moment, they had spoken.

Now, if he were to believe his grandfather’s story, he would have to go back to thinking about his dad the way he used to. But when he tried to remember quite how that had been, he realized all he could find there now was an empty space. The distant figure had been pushed farther away. Meanwhile, the tall man loomed larger, even more hideously strange.

The engine hummed as they crested a rise. Everything felt eerie. Shadowy trees brooded along the roadside, framing enormous flat fields, vague vineyards. Ghost clouds hung frozen in the towering black sky. No stars. It seemed they were the only vehicle on these roads.

Alex rested his head against the window, hoping the coolness might calm the buzz of his thoughts. As he looked down at the old robot again, something else his grandfather once said drifted across his memory. The best advice the old man had ever given him.

Sometimes you just have to accept what’s happening and get on and deal with it.

Deal with it. He rubbed his fingers over the tin toy and yawned, barely aware he was doing it. He let his eyelids close. He just had to find a way to focus his thoughts.