Chapters (41)
- PART ONE
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- PART TWO
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- PART THREE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
My love and gratitude always for my own bisabuela, Great-Grandma Veronica Martinez Lopez, for passing down the stories and taking care of me. My uncle, Dr. Ralph Casas, for researching the genealogy of our Laguna Pueblo roots, and my Auntie Laura for opening her hacienda to me. My whole Casas familia for taking us all to Las Cruces and the graveyard of our ancestors, and that lightning storm in White Sands, Grandma Linda rolling down the hills, all of us cousins learning that laughter and family are medicine. And always, my mom, Dr. Suzanne Casas Boese, for bringing me home to New Mexico, and for staying beside me every step of the way. Mi familia, you light my path. To the indigenous peoples of today and all our yesterdays, mil gracias.
This book has been a family endeavor from the very beginning. My mom for reading draft after draft, for nearly passing out with me at Starbucks from our twilight excursions and NaNoWriMo shenanigans, and for gamboling with the Suuke and me. Your laughter lights my path.
My Grandma Marge, fellow writer, lifetime mentor, whose courage, intelligence, grace, and generosity teach me again and again. I love you forever, Grandma. Thank you for keeping all my books on your shelf.
My partner, Andrew, for visiting every historic and archaeological site in New Mexico with me and our little wolf pack, howling at solstice moons, rolling down the White Sand hills, hunkering in a Los Alamos bomb shelter, watching and discussing every episode of Through the Wormhole multiple times, in all the bubble universes, and acting out action scenes with me so I could cross the arroyos and slay the beasts. I love you, my copilot on this endless adventure.
My daughter, Lina, for gladly climbing aboard my back or belly so I could run around the house feeling out just how a pregnant mama would have carried a girlchild through the desert. I’ll carry you, always. And for lending Eunjoo your beautiful bird-squeak voice.
And my son, Jeremiah, for thinking through parallel worlds with me—your knowledge of deep story from superhero movies does my writer-mama heart good. And for lending Phoenix your backpack full of wonder. There are no worlds I wouldn’t cross for you, my children.