Finn watched her sister struggle for something to say. Did Zadie recognize the hypocrisy of her objection? Here she was, a psychic herself, suggesting that prophecies weren’t real. Maybe she’d spent so much time in denial of her ability that the irony was lost on her. After a pause, her sister gave a tepid nod and said, “When’s the food supposed to be ready?”

The rest of the Wilders’ afternoon was spent at the RV camp. Finn asked every person she met whether they had seen their mother, but their responses were nearly identical: new travelers came through Constellation every day. It was possible that they had met Nora, but it was just as likely that they hadn’t. Despite their lack of progress, however, Finn remained in high spirits. “Someone has to remember her,” she kept saying. Zadie wasn’t as certain but held her tongue.

As the sun went down, the temperature dropped from precisely 84 degrees Fahrenheit to 76 and falling. When the last drops of daylight had drained from the sky, they heard a low chime echo throughout the canyon. Then all at once the lights went out and the camp was plunged into darkness.

Zadie’s voice cut through the hush. “What’s happening?”

“I don’t know,” Finn answered.

After a few seconds, the black lights blinked on and the camp was transformed into an ultraviolet wonderland. The saltbox shacks and mosaic path glowed with bold geometric patterns that hadn’t been visible in daylight. The succulents that dotted the grounds now looked like tiny prickly aliens that lived in holes in the ground. Zadie leaned in to look at the flower of a nearby cactus. It gave off an undersea glow and glittered with the spray of pollen. A pocket-size neon lizard skillfully scaled its spiny flesh, pausing beside the flower as though even a reptile could appreciate its loveliness.

But it wasn’t just the flora that caught her eye. She soon realized that everyone in the square was looking up. When she followed their gaze, she finally understood what the black lights were for. Above her were an impossible number of stars glinting like faceted jewels against the ancient vastness of space—more stars than she’d seen even in the most rural corners of her home state. It was both peaceful in its stillness and terrifying in its enormity. “They’re so bright,” she heard Finn whisper.

They were bright. And beautiful. As Zadie searched the sky for Ursa Major (the only constellation she knew), she heard one lonely piano note sing out in the desert air. At first she thought she was hearing things, but that note was followed shortly by another, then another. The song was faint but familiar. As her sister and the rest of the camp were busy admiring the stars, Zadie snuck off in the direction of the music.