Better When the Sun Goes Down

Prologue

Atlas

Iknow the moment he passes on. His aura, our tether—that strong, once unwavering bond dissolves into the universe.

There one moment, and then gone within the blink of an eye.

I choke out a sob and fall to my knees. My shins scrape against the asphalt.

I momentarily wonder if my parents know or how long it will take them to find out about his passing.

I wonder if I will be the one to tell them, thinking I’m not sure I can fathom their reactions.

With bloodied kneecaps, I bolt to my feet.

I need to do this, I need to see him. And then I’ll have to tell the Angelics of his passing.

Maybe they’ll assign me to continue with his work.

The thought evokes a bittersweet pang and lingering throb in my heart.

Is this what grief feels like? How long do I have to feel this way?

A sudden, audible pop follows my vanishment.

I don’t care if anyone saw it. He’s far more important than the discovery of my powers.

My world is crumbling around me—a physical, sturdy object now parting like sand through the cracks of my fingers.

What the hell am I going to do without him?

How the hell will I navigate this world without him guiding me or . . . imparting his wisdom?

The living room is silent. The door to his room at the very end of the hallway is ajar.

Lights are on inside. My parents must be at his bedside.

A cry from Máma and her pleas in Spanish indicate they know he’s gone.

I don’t want to have to deal with them—I just want to mourn in peace, alone . . . I want to be alone.