The night passes by in a blur of video games and laughter, with occasional breaks for diaper changes and baby bottles. Eventually, we’re all yawning, getting ready to head out soon. But there’s something I want to do before we go, so I slip out into the backyard. I take a lap in the cold, checking on the tiny rainforest I planted, stopping here and there to pull up a few weeds.

The back door clicks open, and I lift my head. I thought it would be Aiden, but it’s Noah. He steps out onto the crunchy grass, his boots unlaced, clearly hastily pulled on.

He crosses the yard to come stand by me, hugging himself against the cold.

“Gardening in the snow, Keane?”

“Just taking care of some little predators that might come for the new plants.” I wrap my hand around a weed and give it a tug, freeing it from the cold soil. “Most of the plants I put in are capable of surviving the winter, but that doesn’t mean they don’t need help.”

I brush the topsoil from my hands, sit back on my heels, and smile up at Noah. He blinks down at me, then looks up, gazing around at the trees, the bushes and flowers, the thick blanket of evergreen needles that have already fallen, softening up the solid ground.

I study him from below. He's been in a great mood all night - laughing, making snippy comments, refusing to give me back the goddamn bear trap - but now he seems serious again.

His breath frosts on the air as he speaks. “Fucking crazy to think that one day Nik will be running through this mini-forest of yours.”

“I know, right?" I gather up the weeds into a small pile. They’re long and stringy and browning at the edges, but harmless, which thankfully means I don’t have to go get my gloves from the car. I tuck a strand of my hair out of my face, then smile up at Noah again. “So sweet, to picture you running around out here with her.”

For a moment, Noah doesn’t say anything, only stands there with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his bomber jacket.

“You need help?” he asks.

“Nope. I think that’s all of them. Or most of them, at least.”

I’m about to get up, but Noah drops to his knees next to me and sits down on the half-frozen grass. I’m caught by surprise, but I fall back to sit with him.

There’s another silence, and I start fidgeting with the plucked weeds, uncertain. I don’t understand how Noah isn’t freezing in his thin, olive green t-shirt, with only the bomber jacket on top. Or maybe he is? His lips are turned a deep red, his skin growing pale. But he makes no indication that he wants to go back inside. I still don’t even know why he came out here in the first place.

I’m waiting for him to say something, so I pick up some of the weeds and start absent-mindedly weaving them together.

Noah watches me. His grey eyes are thoughtful and distant again, two storm clouds with deep black apertures at the center.

“Hey, man... next time we do games and ganj, is it cool if I stay over, after? I don’t want to come back here stoned, with Nik in the house. Feel like I’ll automatically try to help out, feed her or something, and - I don’t want to fuck it up.”

“Oh, of course, totally!” I answer, fixing him with a warm smile. I’m hoping that this means he’ll come by soon, and we can finally talk about what’s going on with him. “My couch is always open, dude.”

He nods slowly. “Thanks.”

“No problem. Although - I should probably tell you, there is a ghost living in my apartment, currently. Or not living, but you know what I mean. So. Just be aware that she’s around.”

Noah's eyebrows shoot up. He stares at me, then lets out a laugh, breaking back into a grin.

“Jesus, bro. You’re fucking ridiculous.”

I’m happy that I got him to smile, but he quickly grows serious again, and another moment slips by in silence.

“You think…” Noah begins, then fades off, swallowing. “You think that Ralph has been around your place again, though? What if he was there because he was looking for me? I don’t want to risk leading him back to Raj and Mel’s house. Especially not now.”

I’m about to remind Noah that Ralph already knows about the house, but that’s not going to be helpful in any way, shape, or form.

“No, I haven’t seen him again. Still haven’t figured out why he was lurking on my street, either. We don’t know for sure that he was there for you.”

Noah hesitates before he answers.

“Bet he knows everything I’m up to, anyways, right? I mean, this is Ketterbridge. Once something is out there, it’s like… it’s out there, and everyone knows about it.”

I’m not sure if Noah is talking about his feelings for Melanie, his feelings for Raj, or the fact that he has feelings for both of them. Or the fact that he has a baby now.

He’s got a lot going on, and he doesn’t realize that I know about all of it, so I have to take a second to figure out my response.

“You know, Noah, we all have vulnerabilities, and it’s perfectly understandable and okay to keep them to yourself, especially if safety is a concern, but... keeping them hidden won’t make them go away. And silence is a weapon your enemies can only use if you put it in their hands.” I weave the weeds together as I speak, keeping my eyes on them, rather than on Noah. “It’s scary, definitely, and people won’t always be cool about it, or even decent. But personally, I’ve found that it still feels better than contorting yourself and bending over backwards to try and pretend that you’re not who you are.”

I tie the final knot on what’s become a flowerless flower crown, then look up to find Noah staring at me, his thoughts indiscernible behind his pewter eyes.

I lean over and drop the crown on his head, then snicker a little. Noah’s whole vibe is sort of rough and sharp, all tattoos and shining fenders, tires burning up the asphalt, piercings punching through his lip and ears and eyebrow and everywhere else.

The crown softens him up considerably.

“Cute on you,” I tell him, and he rolls his eyes, reaching up to take it off. I kind of expect him to toss it out into the yard or something, but he sets it gently down on the frozen earth before him.

The back door opens again, and Aiden steps outside. That sweet glow in his eyes - the one he reserves just for me - starts to shine when he spots me, and an answering flame of warmth sparks in my heart. I get to my feet, and Noah does, too.

Aiden strides over to us and folds an arm around my shoulders.

“Hey,” he says, ruffling my hair. “Came to see if you want to head out. It’s getting late.”

“Mm, sure.” I bounce up onto my toes to press a swift kiss onto Aiden’s mouth, and he smiles, bending down to meet me. The heat of him is already starting to seep through my clothes, spreading down from my shoulders.

I fall back onto my feet, and catch a glimpse of Noah from the corner of my eye.

He’s watching us with a strange expression on his face, too complicated for me to understand. He glances away immediately when I look at him, running a hand through his dark hair.

“I’ll walk you guys out,” he says, setting off towards the door.

We go back inside to find that Raj has gone to bed, and Melanie has taken his place on the couch. She’s sitting with the side of her tank top pushed aside, breastfeeding Nikita and chatting with Ripley. She looks even more exhausted than Raj or Noah, but a few hours of unbroken sleep have obviously gone a long way, and she seems happy to have Nik back in her arms.

Her small smile broadens when Noah comes to a stop before her. He matches it with his own dimpled one.

“Hey,” he says softly.

“Hey, you,” Melanie answers, and then, her eyes dropping to his hands - “What’s that?”

I hadn’t realized, but Noah is still holding the crown that I wove for him outside. He sets it down on the end table by the couch, then stops, noticing the framed photo sitting there.

He picks it up and stares at it, his eyebrows drawing together.

“Oh, that’s the gift I was telling you about,” I explain. “Isn’t that a sweet picture?”

“What gift? Let me see!” Melanie reaches for it, cradling Nikita in one arm. Noah silently hands the frame over, and Melanie gazes down at the photo. Aiden and I exchange a victorious grin as her mouth drops open in delight. “Aw! Jamie!”

“It’s from Aiden, too.”

“You guys.” She looks up at us, positively beaming. “That’s so cute!” She turns it around and shows it to Noah again, her voice bright and happy. “Don’t you think so, Noah?”

“It’s - yeah.” Noah takes the picture back and puts it down on the table, but doesn't look at it again. “It’s really nice. Thanks.”

He leads us to the door; Ripley grabs his board and joins us. Noah says very little, beyond one more thank-you for the night of fun and the help with cleaning up.

I unlock my car, then hesitate, leaning my elbows on the roof while Aiden and Ripley climb inside.

The curtains are pushed back from the living room windows, and I can see Noah and Mel standing there together. Melanie has handed over Nikita, and is getting her tank top back in place. She leans forward to say something to Noah, who nods, smiling warmly. Then she reaches up to touch his cheek, and moves out of view of the window, tossing her messy braid over her shoulder as she goes.

Noah gazes after Melanie for a moment, then shifts Nikita so that she's cuddled to his chest, held securely in one arm.

He bends towards the couch, and when he straightens up, he's holding the framed photo of him, Raj, Mel, and Nik, at the hospital.

He stares down at it again, gently smoothing his thumb in small circles on Nik’s back.

Even if I have to leave him a thousand clues, Noah is going to finally register in his brain what’s been living in his heart.

Sooner or later, what’s truest within us always finds its way to the surface.

~~~~

“You look like you’re thinking hard about something,” Aiden observes, after we drop Ripley off.

“No,” I answer, far too quickly.

I was trying to sound firm, but my fingers tighten conspicuously around the wheel, and Aiden’s blue eyes flick right to them.

“Jamie.” His deep voice is warm with affection, and he reaches over to trace his fingers up the nape of my neck. “You can’t lie to save your ass. Why do you even keep trying?”

“I’m not,” I begin, very unconvincingly, “There’s just-” I cut myself off, leaning forward to peer through the windshield. “Whoa, what’s all that?”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“No, seriously, look.”

Aiden turns to follow my eyeline. We’re driving down a familiar road lined with tall trees, but something is different.

A huge section of chain-link fencing has been set up along a stretch of the trees, then fitted with a tarp, blocking the view of their trunks. Behind the fence, I can discern the tops of a few gigantic machines. Tractors, maybe? I’m not sure.

“Oh,” Aiden says. “That’s the site by the middle school where they’re cutting down the trees. I think they put up the fence after the vandalism incident.”

“Seriously?” I click my tongue. “Who’s that fence gonna keep out? Even I could climb that, easily.”

“I think it’s more to hide the graffiti from the road,” Aiden yawns.

I had almost forgotten about it, that massive piece of protest art across the trunks of the trees, the vandal who switched up the codes and got the work temporarily shut down.

“They may as well let people see the art,” I tell Aiden. “The fence is ugly.”

“Think they don’t want people getting riled up about the cutting. But Gabby mentioned that the trees are coming down tomorrow, so the fence won’t be there much longer.”

“Tomorrow?” My heart sinks. “The petition didn’t get enough signatures to make something happen?”

“Nope.”

“Wow. That’s too bad.”

I drum my fingers on the wheel, and a thought occurs to me. I pull the car over to the side of the road, put it in park, and unstrap myself. Aiden blinks over at me, surprised.

“What are you-?”

“Let’s go see it in person, right? The cool art? Before it comes down?”

Aiden takes a moment to consider, but I think I know what his answer will be. I know that my Companion Plant is always up for an adventure, even if it’s small-scale.

“Okay, yeah, why not?” he says, and I smile.

We lock the car and dart across the street. As I thought, it takes us about five seconds to hop the fence. I don’t know when I became so comfortable with casual trespassing - I quite literally hook my foot onto the no trespassing sign to give myself a boost over the top of the fence - but I guess that participating in a heist changes a person’s idea of what constitutes an unacceptable level of illegal behavior.

With a soft crunch of frozen leaves, Aiden and I drop down on the far side of the fence. He gets to work on a few handfuls of magic fireflies. It doesn't take long. He’s getting really fast at these. I even spot two of them rising from his palms simultaneously, lifting into the air like bubbles.

With a flick of his hand, Aiden sends the lights forward, and we back up to get an eyeful of the trees.

There it is, in dripping white spray paint: VIRGIN SACRIFICE.

“Whoa,” Aiden murmurs, and I have to agree.

The photos really don’t do justice to the scale and intricacy of the thing.

The wording is spread out across several trees, perfectly designed to the curve of each trunk. The letters fall apart into fragmented, abstract shapes if you’re not looking at it head-on. It faces the road, so that no car going by can miss it.

No wonder the city put up a fence.

It looked strictly white in the pictures, but when I get closer, I can see that there are details in the dripping tears, and an underlayer of dark paint that makes them look almost 3D.

“Jesus. They did all this, and changed the codes on the marked trees, and marked a bunch more?” I turn to shake my head at Aiden, dazed. “That must have taken so long. And there was no fence here at the time, so how the hell did they avoid getting spotted from the road?”

“Must be someone sneaky.” Aiden drifts through the dark grove, trailing a hand over the painted bark of the nearest tree. “And talented, too, because this is-” He stops sharply, suddenly frowning. “Um. Jamie.”

"What?”

He hooks a finger at me. “Come look at this.”

I join Aiden by the tree, and he beckons to the magic fireflies. They gather together around a few splashes of white paint towards the base of the trunk, just above the roots. Aiden and I both drop to a crouch to get a closer look.

It’s much smaller and simpler than the rest of the artwork, which makes it seem like a few accidental swipes of paint. But whoever did this didn’t make a mistake anywhere else, so that’s hard to believe.

I stare at it, touching a finger to the gleaming white bark, and the realization hits me. It’s a tag.

Three concentric curves of soft spray paint, in descending order of size.

“What does that look like to you?” Aiden asks.

It dawns on me in bits and pieces, then all at once. My breath stops in my throat.

“Ripples.” I twist to look at Aiden, wide-eyed. “Oh, my fucking god. Ripples.”

We stare at each other, then move as one, getting to our feet and backing up to take in the whole view.

Aiden lets out a low whistle.

“Damn, Ripley," he says.