It was good to see that the town was even full of people. On the lake, barely an hour went by before you’d spot somebody out on the islands or paddling by in their canoe. But not here. The streets were quiet for the most part. You’d never even know anyone was behind all those little doors and windows half the time. But here they all were, arriving in their droves. New faces. Old faces. Regulars and Returnees alike, all chattering among themselves. If there were any concerns about the Returnees’ trance at all, then you’d never know it. Peter sat forward. His heart swelled. The integration from Yellowstone they’d been promised, and that he and Cooper had gone on to promise everyone they’d rescued this last month, was alive and it was here. He swung round, looking towards the front door, and now more than ever willed Cooper to arrive, just so he could see first-hand that those hopes were working.

Peter looked across the way, worried that an old-timer sitting opposite him in a Stetson and T-shirt with a moose on it that said I Don’t Find You Very Amoosing was alone. Peter smiled, but the old man gave a gruff nod like he was already done with being here and looked down at an envelope he held clutched across his lap. Whatever was in it worried him. The gruffness slipped from his face, leaving him small and vulnerable. And he wasn’t the only one. Three seats down, the girl who worked the cash till at the supermarket, the one who didn’t smile back, had her envelope scrunched up in her fist while she chewed the skin around her fingernails. Peter looked for Teddy. Perhaps he’d know what the envelopes were for. But he was too busy budging between two women over at the trestle table for more donuts before they all went.