“For Luna.” I blink out of the stupor, and I look up in enough time to catch the blue toy lightsaber Eliot hurls my way. Smiling, I twirl it a little, and then I click the button to power it on. The batteries are dead. Must be super old. Beckett wears the halo with such cool nonchalance that he reminds me of Christian Slater from Heathers. Charlie leaves the horns on the floor.
