“So,” she says, starting in on the cupcake first. “Message from space aliens. What do you say?” “I think I say: Why?” She looks at me super seriously, her eyes wide and kind of sad, like she’s explaining why you should get your pets spayed or neutered. “Because the scientists have been listening for ages and they haven’t heard anything. I don’t want them to give up hope.” “I mean—why me?” It’s a question I’ve asked myself a zillion times. I’m not expecting Agate to have an answer. But she does: She answers like she’s prepped for it, like she’s reading her reasons off an index card, and pops a
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