I look down and at first I don’t see anything. Then I realize that she’s not pointing at the shoe. She’s pointing at the yellow starburst sewn on the bottom of my jeans. I’m so used to these starbursts that I don’t even see them anymore.

I reach down to take a good look at the star for the first time. A hard corner beneath the yellow threads pokes into my thumb. It’s tiny and unnoticeable, or at least I’ve never noticed it.

“This is you,” she says, with her finger on the lower arrow in Redwood City.

“This is Paige.” She moves her finger to the upper arrow in San Francisco.

Could she have gone so far in such a short time?

I take a deep breath. Who knows what she’s capable of doing now?

I remember Dad showing us a tiny flake of a chip perched on the tip of his finger. He had handfuls of them in the container with the receiver. The chip was covered in plastic coating that made it dirt-free and waterproof, so the dogs could roll in the mud and be sprayed off without affecting the transmitter.

This is how Mom showed up so regularly when Raffe and I were on the road. This is how she ended up at the aerie.

“Mom, you’re a genius.”

My mother looks surprised. Then she beams a delighted smile. I haven’t seen her this happy since I don’t know when. Her face radiates joy like a little girl who just found out she did something right for the first time in her life.

I nod. “Good job, Mom.” Kind of a disturbing eye-opener to realize that your own parent needs encouragement from you.

WE DITCH the noisy police car for a quiet electric vehicle that has the keys in the ignition.

I rummage through the police cruiser’s glove compartment and trunk for anything useful to transfer into the new car. I score binoculars and a grab-and-go bag full of emergency supplies. If there’s one thing Obi’s men are good at, it’s survival on the run. I suspect all the Resistance vehicles have these.

Clara takes me aside on our way into the new car. “Don’t get your hopes up,” she whispers.

“Don’t worry. I know my chances of finding Paige are slim.”

“I don’t mean that. I mean about your mom.”

“Believe me, I have no hopes about her.”

“But you do. I can see it. There’s a saying, ‘Just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean they’re not out to get you.’ Well, the reverse is true too. Just because someone’s out to get you doesn’t mean you’re not paranoid.”

“I don’t understand.”

“The world going crazy doesn’t mean your mother isn’t still crazy, too.”

I pull back from her. I wasn’t thinking that.

Not really.