* * *

Karina notices the mingling of iridescent colors in the rapid movement of the bird’s wings, not unlike the spill of oil in a rain puddle. The garden she has designed, though it is not yet finished, is already attracting all kinds of curious visitors. She imagines a communion of them, coming to harvest pollen through the upcoming season. It is difficult to believe it will soon be a year since she came back home. Time is passing more fluidly now, but it was painfully slow at the beginning. It took all her strength to relive her experiences at the Sanctuary, baring to the authorities not only how she’d suffered, but the wrongs she’d committed out of faith and loyalty.

Most of the things she’d told the police about Micah turned out to be lies. His real name was Myron Williams, and there were charges pending against him for operating an E. coli–stricken mushroom farm in Oregon and embezzling from a crystal shop in Vegas. He had never attended Juilliard or even registered for a marathon. He could not have traveled around the world because he had never held a passport. For the past several years throughout Southern California, he had perpetrated a con known as “luxury squatting” by intentionally damaging multimillion-dollar properties to live in them rent-free. It had caused Karina fresh pain to know that nearly everything she had believed about him was untrue, that her judgments and instincts had been so grievously wrong. In contrast to Micah’s claims, the police were, in fact, more intent on halting widespread illegal growers since the legalization of marijuana. Karina felt some consolation in taking responsibility for her actions and working with the police to liberate the friends she left behind. The authorities, in exchange for testimony that enabled them to finally arrest a career criminal, granted her a community service requirement.

When she first returned from Santa Barbara, Karina had little reason to get out of bed, until the day Mom brought home a rescue dog from the shelter, a four-year-old beagle-retriever mix. They had a few days to decide, Mom said, but as soon as the dog bounded up to Karina, with her gentle eyes and coat the color of gingerbread, she belonged to them. Karina began waking up every morning to walk Ginger, then running with her through the neighborhood, which she now does twice a day. She hasn’t run since the cross-country team in high school, and that familiar burn in her lungs is a welcome discomfort.

A few weeks after Karina’s parents brought her home, Izzy returned from college. When she learned what had happened, she cancelled her trip to Spain and spent the entire summer at home. She and Karina went to her old barn together every day and helped care for the horses, brushing coats, refilling feed, raking out stalls, going on leisurely rides. Karina plans to move Buddy up to these stables, once the rescue farm where he’s been recovering in Santa Barbara deems him strong enough for transport.