On the wings of the fiddle and the waves far beyond, the wind swooping into the tunnel and spinning about them, the girl and the boy who had crossed hemispheres and atmospheres and everywhere in between, stepped together—and their lips met. Soft, safe, warm, strong. Lucy’s heart swelled within her, both aching with fear of losing him again and spilling over with joy at being in his arms. Her Dash. Perhaps Father had been right. Nothing was impossible.
