by Mary Weber
She pressed out her mind, like she had multiple times over the past week, to see if she could pick up a vibration or speck of something more.
The impressions that bounced back were only of the imprint they’d left upon Earth—their environmental additions and expansive technology. And Danya halfway around the world with her family. She pushed farther, past Earth’s atmosphere and into space, but was met with a cold sense of emptiness. Not even a lingering wormhole trace.
Miguel swiped up a song on his handcomp, then slipped his hand into hers. “Hey. Where are you?”
Sofi inhaled. And picked up his vibration as his pulse struck softly. His heartbeat in cadence with hers.
“You okay?”
She shut her eyes and nodded. “I’m fine.”
Then said good-bye to them. To the visitors who’d stolen so much of her life and the lives of far too many others. She said good-bye to her mother, and father, and Ella. She said good-bye to the history she could not change—the former things that were no longer her. And released her mind to come back home—to here. This place where Shilo was destroying a radio and Miguel was helping create a new life in this wilderness of humanity, but only if she wanted it. He wouldn’t push her, she knew. He was there to be hers for whatever she wanted. Or not, if she wanted that too.
Of course she wanted him here. She pressed out to him with her feelings and got back what she’d expected. Contentment. Because she was his family now too. And this was their home, with the scent of warm earth and farm fields and sun-touched skin and the low sound of music thumping.
“Leaving shadows of our former selves and former loves . . .” the music crooned. She opened her eyes and peered up at Miguel’s face, and caught that quirk of a smile. The one that said even though all was not perfect in the world, the world was perfect in this moment.
And that was enough.
It was more than enough.
To have a life full of perfect moments in between the hard and painful and fearful. To live tasting the in-betweens like these, and to create them. And to believe again that there was something bigger to all this—bigger than aliens and humans and hate and hope. Something that held them, like melodic strands, in the unwavering hands of Love.
Sofi raised a palm to Miguel’s chest and pressed into the heartbeat that had over the past few weeks become a rhythm to her own pulsing refrain. And stood beside him as the song played: “But what if just for tonight we forget the brutal and be true to ourselves? Souls sharing skin and something bigger in this moment?”
The sun slipped lower and the music thumped on, carrying with it the promise that tomorrow would hold a whole new set of breathtaking moments all their own.
And that was her future.
TEN MONTHS LATER . . .
Some where in the south middle east region, on a warmer-than-normal afternoon, a baby’s cry erupted through the maternity wing of an already-noisy hospital.
The father leaned down as the midwife placed the baby on the mother’s bare chest, skin radiating warmth and maternal connection that ran deeper than merely mental logic. This was her child. Her gift. Her miracle.
“She’s beautiful.” Salim brushed his brown hand over the baby’s skin, then on up to his wife’s face. “She will be a mediator, and an advisor, and a strong woman of hope, just like you, my love.”
Danya peered up at this man who’d been her husband only six years—chosen when she’d begun her life here on Earth for the purpose of learning more about their culture, their security, and their beliefs. What she learned about more than any of that, however, was how to love.
And it was the gift she’d given him to learn in return.
She looked down at her baby—this impossibility of Delonese and human DNA. She kissed the black hair and brown skin and tiny nose. Love had done what all the technology of Delon could not—created life and a future for her species.
Little voices chattered out in the hallway, and suddenly the door flung open. “May we see, Mama?” The children she and Salim had adopted ran into the room. “Can she talk yet? Can we hold her?”
Danya smiled at these faces she loved more than the entirety of life. These faces beaming like the hearts their bodies housed—which had taught her even more the meaning of love.
She placed the baby onto the clean linen in her lap and scooted over for them to climb on the bed beside her. “She’s watching you. Look, she already likes you.”
“Why’s she all pink? What’s her name?”
Danya looked at Salim. “I don’t know. What shall we name her?”
“Name her after me!” squealed her daughter.
“Name her after the stars,” whispered Danya’s son.
Danya’s handscreen suddenly clicked on and a message scrolled across the face of it.
Congratulations. Shilo, Miguel, and I are so happy for you.
Thank you, friend. Danya responded. We hope that like her siblings, she too will one day change the world.
Sofi’s text came back: She already has.
MY PLAYLIST OF THANK-YOUS
Dearest Reader . . .
I wrote this story over a course of months when my heart felt laid open and raw, and I’d just about lost my faith in humanity (which, if you know me at all, is near impossible). Like I was ready to simply walk away and live in a cave.
It was the kindness of a few friends that held my soul in place, held me steady, held my head up amid a culture that seems to have forgotten what we’re all here for. It was kindness that said, “Sweetheart, this world is so bloated with itself, you’d think it ain’t got room for anyone else—and yet it’s wasting away for lack of love. Cuz we can’t live on rage and hate. There’s no sustenance in it. So come sit here with us where there’s room. We’re not as loud or shocking, but we’re real. Come feast on our belief that even where evil abounds, grace will always abound more.”
So I sat at the table, and ate, and bled. And they sat with me and set the music to “play.”
There are still days I remind myself to stay seated. But those are the ones I force myself to look around and see just how big the table of kindness is. And it’s growing. Because grace abounds even more.
So, here’s my invitation to you.
If you need it, we’re here. You can sit with us. <3
Here’s a list of friends already at the table:
Peter, my husband. My children Rilian, Avalon, and Korbin. Dad and Mom. My siblings and their families. Kati.
Courtney Stevens, Jay and JoanMarie Asher, Maggie Stiefvater, CJ Redwine, Katie Ganshert, Allen Arnold, Ted and Leeann Dekker, Kevin Kaiser, Jim Rubart, Caleb and Brittney Breakey, and my sweet cookie sisters, Nadine Brandes and Sara Ella.
Lori and Will Barrow, Jeanette Morris, Robert Perez, and the entire Father’s House and Rise leaders, teens, and family. My agent, Danielle Smith. My publisher, Bex, Amanda, Jodi, Paul, Allison, Kristen, Julee, and the TN team.
Every reader, blogger, bookstagrammer, interviewer, and human who has read my books, showed up to events, or reached out simply to say, “I see you. I’m here too.” Y’all are far more treasured in this world than you can know. Thank you.
Jesus. Because you are all this heart exists for.
~m
DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD!
1. In chapter 16, Jerrad tells Inola that she’s not lost Sofi—rather, Sofi’s actions have simply been attempts to gain her mom’s attention. Do you think that’s true? That she wants a relationship with her mom beyond just being corrected or ignored? If you could say anything to your parent(s), what would it be? If your parent(s) could say anything to you, what would you want to hear?
2. There’s a quote often attributed to Edmond Burke that says, “The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men should do nothing.” In the black markets Inola discovers firsthand a very dark reality to life—the fact that people are literally trafficking (selling) others, particularly children. When the que
stion is posed to her, “Whose fault is it?” she’s left to consider the answer. Is it hers? Is it those directly doing the harm? Is it those who knowingly go back into harmful lifestyles? As members of the human family, what is your and my responsibility when it comes to this issue?
3. In chapter 15, we read how Sofi’s belief in the goodness of humanity altered Miguel’s perspective on life. And yet, people are not always good—in fact, as mentioned above, and as we see in the news regularly, people do hurtful things. How can both of those be true? Can a person have goodness within? Can that same person do harmful things? Why or why not? And what do you believe about people? What do you think ultimately causes humans to choose good over harm?
4. Sofi and Miguel have a complicated relationship in which both of them are learning to become truer to who they are. Part of this is identifying negative aspects of their past and then releasing those. Part of it is viewing the future through the lenses of the people they are choosing to become. And part of it is learning to love oneself. What do you think it means in a practical sense to do this? Can a person actually be “true to oneself”?
5. Another theme presented in this story is that of family. What breaks a family—and what makes a family. In your perspective, does family always have to be biological? What characteristics make up a “healthy” family unit?
6. One of the topics this book wrestles with is that of genetic engineering—an issue people across the spectrum, but especially in the sciences, are continually debating. What rights do we have to genetically engineer things (including humans, animals, plants, etc.)? How far do those rights extend? Is there a chance we might go too far? What are the potential impacts—both positive and negative? Should it be regulated, and if so, who should be responsible to do so?
7. In Miguel’s speech in the FanFight arena near the book’s end, he states that all life is precious, even the lives of those we disagree with—adding that the moment we elevate our lives above another’s is the moment we all begin to lose. In light of our current online, cultural, and political surroundings, do you think those statements are true? What would change if people actually lived like that?
8. In the second part of Miguel’s ending speech, he poses two questions: “How do we lose our humanity? And how do we gain our humanity back?” How would you answer those?
If the idea of the black markets or the delonese experiments in this book made you or others uncomfortable, it was for a reason. A large part of this series is centered around human trafficking, which is a very real crisis across our globe today. At the time of this writing, nearly 30 million humans are enslaved and oppressed—in the most horrific circumstances one can imagine. And they need voices to speak up for them.
To learn more about human trafficking and how you can (1) protect yourself, (2) protect others, and (3) help bring freedom to those who desperately need it, visit www.A21.org. And if you are currently one of those millions, then please know this: This series is for you. It is your voice being raised for the world to hear because you are not alone. We’re here fighting for you. And. We. Will. Not. Stop.
Teachers and Librarians—for more resources,
please visit www.MaryWeber.com
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
PHOTO BY SARAH KATHLEEN PHOTOGRAPHY
Mary Weber is the author of the Scholastic Pick, Christy, Carol, and INSPY Award–winning young adult novel, Storm Siren, and the Storm Siren Trilogy. As an avid school and conference speaker, Weber has a passion for helping others find their voice amid a too-loud world. In her spare time she sings ’80s songs to her three muggle children and ogles her husband who looks strikingly like Wolverine. They live in California, which is perfect for stalking tacos and the ocean.