Page 73 of Commander’s Mate

Forget diplomacy.

Forget every rescued person who needed a destination.

Go.

Now.

I reached for the command panel.

Stopped.

Harper moved in the doorway.

She wore one of my shirts.

It hung absurdly loose on her.

Her hair was flattened on one side from sleep.

“What happened?”

Neither Tivid nor I answered quickly enough.

She looked at the tablet.

“Is it Earth?”

“No.”

She exhaled.

Then guilt crossed her face for the relief.

I knew the feeling.

“Farseek?”

“Yes.”

She came closer.

Not touching.

Waiting.

I hated that I had taught her to wait for permission around grief.

Or perhaps the universe had.

“Tivid found my sister.”

Her eyes widened.

“Alive?”

“Forty-seven days ago.”

“Oh.”