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My head, presumably. But I can’t explain myself while he’s not looking at me and a mile or two passes before we pause at a light-controlled junction near to where Matis lives. “I am thinking about how I feel this morning.”

“And how’s that?”

“I don’t know…wired, maybe?”

Poet’s lips twitch. As ever, he has interpreted my half-finished thought before me. But this time, I can’t catch him up. I do not know what this feeling inside me is and I convey this through my newfound and tenuous grasp of BSL.

Which only expands his sunshine smile. “You’ll figure it out.”

I have no doubt. At some point, anyway. First, though. Matis. And then Norfolk and Moondust Farm. Aras is already there with Hanna, though she is not staying long. And she reacts exactly as I anticipate to the news that Aras and I will live on the farm so close to her house.

She reacts with pure joy. For me, for Aras. For us all. “It’s perfect, Oscar, isn’t it?”

Hanna is perfect. And I tell her so as I hug her feminine frame to me and bid her goodbye.

“That is so lovely.”

With Hanna gone, I turn to find Poet’s mother behind me. Jekka Whitlock has long hair and a peace sign tattooed on her shoulder. She is warmth and love personified, and I have never felt more human and grounded than I do in her company. Unless I am with Poet…even when he makes me fly. “Hanna and I are friends,” I tell Jekka.

She smiles. “I know, and it shows in how happy Aras is.”

That’s it.

That is the conversation before Jekka moves on to the next person, but it means a lot to me, and I linger at the garden gate, watching my son play with Ivy in the orchard half the size of the one on Sunstone Farm.

The trees are frosty. Aras and Ivy cannot climb today, but they still run and laugh with pink cheeks and bright eyes, chasing Ariel the dog, and Iggy and Jekka’s twin boys while Poet and Folk watch on.

I feel rather than hear Seth Whitlock come up behind me.

Ivy’s father. I have always known him as Decoy, his road name with the Rebel Kings. Actually, until the last few months, I have never really known him at all beyond single dad solidarity. But we often find ourselves together at Moondust Farm, both of us bemused and happy to be here. And Decoy—Seth—he’s brought me something.

I turn the small brass key over in my palm. “What is this for?”

He shrugs and sips from a chipped mug of mulled cider. “I was told to give it to you. I don’t ask the questions around here.”

Seth is a shy man. I’m not sure he asks the questions anywhere. But I do, and so I pocket the key to figure out later.

Food first.

So much food. I eat until I am too full to do anymore sums to manage it. Then I play cards with the children. On the floor, in front of the fire. Aras is used to having me all to himself, but he has learned to share me with Ivy and the twins. And I have big enough arms for them all.

“Can we get a dog?” Aras asks me suddenly.

In Lithuanian.

It’s the perfect moment for a conversation we need to have. “Maybe.” He is already on my lap. I pull him into a tighter hug. “But we will have to ask Poet—because we’re going to live on the farm with him now, instead of our house. Is that okay with you?”

Aras blinks, tired after a full day of fun and food. “We’ll live with Poet?”

“Yes. You already have a bed there, and you can see your other room from the window. And Poet’s room too, so we can wave when we are in different houses.”

He nods, solemn and serious. “I like that.”

“So do I. And maybe we can have a dog on the farm. I think Poet would like that too, though it would have to be one who doesn’t chase the chickens.”

“Not Ariel then.”

“No. She is naughty like that. Our dog will be good, like you, mažyli.”