“I know,” Marley said, and nothing more.

The sun woke up right in front of our eyes. I closed mine to feel the warmth of the morning glow press against my lids.

That’s when Marley pushed me.

If my hands weren’t death-gripping the rail and my feet weren’t hooked below me, I would have fallen onto my head. Instead, I hung upside down like a bat.

Marley’s laugh was casual. “I thought you didn’t have to close your eyes,” she said, teasing.

I started to cry. I didn’t mean to be so scared, but the fall had jolted my heart. I couldn’t find my breath.

Marley hopped down. She put her hands beneath my armpits and lowered me to the ground, then picked me up until I stood face-to-face with her. When she saw my tears, she softened. “Oh, Ollie. I knew you wouldn’t hit the ground. You were holding the rail so tight, your knuckles were purple.” She hugged me until I was almost hidden inside her arms. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I lied.

4

“What does yours say?” and “I’m not supposed to show anyone,” and “This is so much to take,” and “Let me read it,” and “What’s going on?” and “I don’t want to share mine yet,” and “Let’s show each other. It’s not like Marley is here to know,” and “What was that you said?”

Bigs cleared his throat to stop a fight from breaking out. The entire group fell quiet at the promise of words from his oft-sealed lips. “We should do whatever the letters say. It’s from Marley.” He said her name the way the rest of Cadence feared, like tears threatened to burst out. Or worse, a real memory might slip through his clenched teeth. I hadn’t heard it said like that since her funeral, the last day I remember that kind of sentimentality being not only acceptable, but welcomed.

Our seven sets of eyes found one another, like dots connecting, tracing the outline of Marley’s silhouette between us.

Teeny sighed at her brother. “Can everyone tell me if theirs also says this is the Adventure, though? I need to know I’m not the only one.”

Everyone nodded.

“My letter also says for me to tell you all that the tunnel goes farther than we know,” Harrison said.

Our attention moved to the tunnel. Going inside meant no going back. As if there was a choice. Every millisecond in Marley’s absence had been leading up to this. Year five. Cadence Park. The Albany kids huddled together in the bottom of the bowl. I never pictured it as such, but living it, I knew it couldn’t happen any other way. It was year five, after all. Everything had to be bigger.