But I step away. Bria’s eyebrows knit in a kind of pity. She holds something up for me to see. EARTH Dangling between her elegant fingers is Wyatt’s abandoned flashlight, clinking on its snapped key ring. I can hear it, because Bria can hear it, because something connects us now. EARTH TO A network spreads out from her, like she’s the spider and I’m the fly straining against her web. EARTH TO MARS
