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him.
    Psychological y it could harm me. My mouth may start espousing truths he could never comprehend, but then he was a Celestra. He would know al this were possible, right? How much did he know and for how long?
    I round the dining room wal . He’s there with his hand curled around a cup of coffee, his glasses pushed high into his forehead. His thick cap of hair has far more grey in it than I remember. His skin looks rougher, thicker. It’s as though his death had painted a younger version of him in my mind, taken the reality and exchanged it for perfection.
    “Skyla!” He looks up surprised. “I thought Mom took you to school. You need a ride?”
    His voice—that smooth as velvet deep baritone moves through my bones in a soothing rhythm. Oh, how I miss him. My heart aches and fil s with unstoppable joy al at once.
    “I’m sick.” I walk over and wrap my arms around his chest and take in his scent. It’s a deep luxurious hug that no matter how good it feels right now wil never be enough for a lifetime.
    “I gotta get moving soon. Sure you don’t need a ride? You look fine.” He studies my face as though it might clue him into my real intentions.
    “No. I’m going to sleep. Got bad cramps. Mom gave me some medicine, so I’l be knocked out.” I don’t know what the repercussions are going to be for the old me when I come home from school, but who cares? At least dad wil be here at the end of the day—if not to greet me. And what about Paragon and al of the things that have happened? I have Chloe and the impressions I’ve made on her memory to thank for my lack of fear in that department. I may not have al the answers, but I can figure them out. Sometimes, contrary to what Logan believes, you don’t need a detailed plan.
    I kiss him on the cheek.
    “Good-bye, Daddy.”
    I rush upstairs and close the door to my bedroom trying to stave off the tidal wave of emotion begging to stream out of me.

    ***

    “Let’s go.” I take a seat next to Chloe on the floor. “Do we have to fal asleep?”
    “Close your eyes and loosen your body.” She instructs, picking up my hands. We thread our fingers and sit there, relaxed, and I don’t feel a darn thing. Then that familiar fal ing sensation swirls through my body. I’m rocking and swaying even though my muscles haven’t moved an inch.
    Everything ceases.
    It’s so quiet and calm.
    I’m al alone in my bed on Paragon.

    Chapter Ten

    Setback

    I wake up to another ash grey sky, another seamless tick in the carousel of time. Not one object out of place in my bedroom, not a single hiccup as far as I can tel .
    I don’t bother going to the bathroom or putting on my flip-flops before racing downstairs. Daddy could stil be here. By some miracle, or the steering hand of destiny we could have moved to Paragon.
    I pass my stepsister Melissa in the hal . I see Drake hunched over the breakfast table, and the light is on in Tad’s office across from the kitchen, so I poke my head in. Stil him.
    Theoretical y Mom could have left Dad, they could be divorced for al I know, and I could cal him on the phone if I wanted.
    I find mom, busy on her laptop. I slide into the seat next to her and rest my head on my hand.
    “Morning,” she says without looking up.
    “Morning,” I parrot.
    “What do you want?” Stil not looking up.
    “Just had a weird dream about Dad that’s al .” I let out a hard sigh.
    “I’m sorry, honey.” Her arms fal around me tenderly. “Anything you want to talk about?”
    I shake my head. I’m not up for the psychoanalysis of some fake dream I’l have to make up as I go along.
    “Can I ask you a question?” I approach the topic with caution. “How did he drive his car that day? I think I remember something about him looking for his keys before I left for school. I mean he must have found them, right?” The memory of what happened tugs at my brain, but I won’t let it in. I want my mother to feed me al the words, create a better ending