Chapter 15
CONNECTING THE LITERAL DOTS
Rain pattered a staccato beat against the plate-glass windows overlooking the lake behind my brother’s cute little bungalow.
The storm had rolled in while I was on my way to Maryville, and now I watched lightning lash down over the frothing water past the dock.
The battered pontoon boat Dustin had been “fixing up” for ages rocked and rolled on each swell, straining against its ropes like it was trying to escape.
The trees, stripped of their brittle, brown leaves by the wind, thrashed like concert ravers jamming out to nature’s music.
The next flashing bolt jarred free a memory of blue strands of light crawling over the walls, the ceiling, stinging my flesh—
“You know you’re not supposed to stand close to windows during storms, Rae,” my mom called from where she was chopping veggies in the cheerful blue-and-yellow kitchen.
I jumped, then blinked, gathering myself enough to shoot her a dry look over my shoulder. “That’s mostly a myth, Mom,” I said, but it still made me smile.
At barely five feet tall, Mama B, as Amelia called her, was a tiny force of nature wrapped in a riot of color. Her graying hair was long and wild, and today’s floor-length dress, red, purple, and pink, should’ve clashed with the kitchen decor.
It didn’t, though. She owned every room she stepped into, a juxtaposition of maternal softness and fierceness I’d found myself striving for the older I got. Still a work in progress. Even now, I tended to fade. Which was fine. Sometimes it was easier to observe things from the background.
And I’d definitely been observing a lot of…things lately.
Suppressing a shiver, I turned from the window. Dustin and Lisa’s eat-in kitchen opened right into their living room, and with one last glance at the storm, I wandered past the table toward the island where Mom was working.
“It’s not that bad out there,” I said.
The scent of her cheesy Italian chicken made my stomach growl. I hadn’t eaten anything since that pizza binge last night. It was a good sign, I guessed, that my appetite was back.
I leaned my elbows on the counter. “Need a hand?”
“You already made the salad. And that cheesecake you brought.” Mom waved her knife like a wand. “Go check on your sister-in-law. Make sure she’s not climbing on that stepladder again.”
“On it.”
I mounted the stairs, rubbing my marked palm with my thumb as I went. No texture. No change, but I knew the markings were there.
Lowering my arms to my sides, I turned the corner, and sure enough—
Lisa froze with one foot on a step stool, both hands full of a stars-and-moon mobile. She winced. “Oh, Rae,” she said, easing off the stool. “Hi.”
I raised my brow. At nearly nine months pregnant, she was nearly as wide as she was tall, and it was utterly adorable.
“Busted,” I said, arms crossed. “I’m under strict orders to keep you off that thing.”
She rolled her eyes but conceded, handing me the mobile. “I’m pregnant, not made of glass.”
“You’re growing my nephew in there. You’ve earned the right to relax.”
I paused to take in the nursery. It had changed a lot since I last visited.
It was oddly fitting, considering current events, that they’d gone with a space theme.
The walls faded from light blue to deep cerulean to navy black, like a sky falling into night.
Constellations and planets scattered across the ceiling and walls, glowing faintly beneath the soft wash of recessed lighting.
Over the crib, the words I love you more than there are stars in the sky gleamed in silver script.
Cute. No way in hell Dustin had come up with it.
I saw the changing table and the little gray dresser, both pieces Mom and I had painted together for Lisa’s shower, were already in place. It made me smile to see our labors of love on display.
The whole room felt…calm. Soothing. Something I hadn’t been feeling much lately. A strange sort of nostalgia settled in, and I turned back to Lisa.
“You guys got a lot done,” I said, genuinely impressed.
“Dustin’s been nesting harder than I have. He did most of this,” Lisa said, flipping a curl over her shoulder. “I had to tell him to take a break.”
I smiled. “Sounds familiar.” I lifted the mobile. “Where do you want this?”
“Oh, just over the crib. There’s a hook already.”
I climbed the ladder and stretched up to hang it. The tiny planets and stars tinkled as they swayed. Turning slowly, I took in the rest of the room. A familiar shape on the wall caught my eye: the Big Dipper.
My chest constricted, a soft squeeze. It was like Dad would be here, watching over his grandson.
Then I frowned. Come to think of it, though…all these shapes looked a little familiar.
“Did…” I arched a brow Lisa’s way. “Did Dustin actually use real constellations for all of these?”
“Yes.” She rolled her eyes, rubbing her belly. “He bought a projector to make sure it was accurate.”
“Wow.” I climbed down slowly, circling the room. “No wonder it took so long.”
“You have no idea. He ordered maps and everything. Remember what I said about obsession? He even…”
I stopped short. Her words faded to a background buzz as my attention snagged on a single star pattern.
It wasn’t just familiar. It was the pattern. The one I’d woken up with in my head. My stomach dropped.
A rectangle. Off-kilter. Crooked.
My palm tingled.
“Lisa.” I turned with a half-formed, apologetic smile. “Sorry to interrupt. But…do you know what constellation that is?”
She followed my gaze, forehead furrowing. “No. I have no idea. That was all your brother.”
“Equuleus,” said a voice from the doorway.
Dustin. Rain had plastered his hair to his head and soaked through his gray, oil-stained shop coveralls, but that didn’t stop him from wrapping Lisa in a soggy bear hug and kissing her shoulder.
“You’re soaked!” Lisa squealed. “You’re tracking water everywhere!”
“I’m cleaning the carpets tomorrow.” He gave her his usual dopey grin, then turned to me. “And yeah, Rae. That one’s Equuleus. Why? Want me to come do your room, too?”
“Equuleus,” I repeated, the word sticking in my throat. I studied it again.
I’d never heard of it. I’d never even read the word in any textbook. I’d have no clue where to find it in the night sky.
But I’d seen that exact pattern. Burned behind my eyelids. An echo of a dream.
Why was I dreaming about constellations I didn’t know?
A nagging voice reminded me I’d been run off the road by a UFO and chased by alien robots in the last week. It didn’t take a rocket scientist—or a flying saucer one—to figure out the connection. It had to be related.
Maybe it’d been in my subconscious.
Maybe it hadn’t.
I fought the urge to look at my hand.
Oblivious to my existential crisis, Dustin slung an arm around his wife’s shoulders. “Yeah, it’s a horse’s head. You know, like equine.”
“Latin for horse,” I muttered, still staring at the constellation. I could feel my brother’s eyes on me, but I couldn’t seem to look away.
“You all right over there?” he asked. “Mom told me you almost got blown up at school yesterday.”
“Almost got what?” Lisa cried.
I sighed and turned around just in time to see her smack Dustin’s arm.
“You didn’t tell me that!” she said, spinning toward me with surprising grace for someone that pregnant. Her brows pinched tight over her dark eyes. “What happened? Are you okay?”
An alien infiltration happened.
“I’m fine. Seriously,” I said quickly, curling my fingertips to contain the itch in my right hand.
“I wasn’t hurt at all. Last I heard, the school still isn’t sure what caused the explosion.
Something about the solar flare.” The lie tasted bitter.
I shrugged, aiming for nonchalance. “I got knocked out, but the EMT checked me out. I’ve been fine since. ”
No need to mention the full-blown meltdown I’d had last night. The wine. The bruises. The dream hallucinations.
I mean, I was feeling better. Mostly.
Lisa moved closer and searched my face, still looking unconvinced, so I added, “I even stayed home from work yesterday and took it easy.”
She opened her mouth, but my brother cut her off.
“Oh, no,” he said, circling Lisa to grab my shoulders and peer into my face.
His hazel eyes—so much like mine, like Dad’s—sparkled with mock concern.
“You called off work? What is this, Invasion of the Body Snatchers? Were you abducted by those aliens everyone says are taking over?”
I almost choked. My eyes bugged, but I caught myself and forced a laugh, shoving him off with more force than necessary. Because he was my big brother and we used to wrestle daily, he just laughed.
His fingers brushed the bruises on my upper arm, though, as he released me, and I barely checked my flinch. Recovering, I scoffed.
“If I was abducted, they probably would’ve dropped me back off out of sheer annoyance. Too many questions,” I said wryly.
Not a lie at all.
“You’ve got that right,” Dustin said, trying to ruffle my hair. I dodged his hand and sent him a glare. Sometimes I thought he’d missed the part where I was no longer thirteen.
“Did you go to the hospital, at least?” Lisa asked, twisting her hands together.
Sobering, I straightened. “No...”
Dustin and I exchanged a look. I wasn’t the only one who’d developed a dislike of all things hospital related. It was a testament of his love for Lisa their birth plan involved Willow Hospital.
“I didn’t need to,” I said, summoning a smile that felt more than a little stilted. “I really am fine. I promise.”
Lisa opened her mouth—but thankfully, Mom’s voice rang out, calling us to dinner.
With one, final worried look my way, Lisa dropped it and let Dustin guide her from the room.
I released a quiet breath, tucking my marked hand into my pocket.
My brother chattered about the storm and the lake as I followed them from the nursery.
But not before casting one last glance over my shoulder at the constellation.
Was that actually what I’d seen in my dreams? Stars? Or was this some kind of message from them?
Or was I just losing my whole damn mind?
My hand tingled. I’d told Lisa I was fine, but even I was starting to wonder.
There was a chance I was far from fine.