I doze and wake over Iowa. Am shocked at the ruin of the city below, interrupting the interstate that used to run through it—and even more so when I realize it has to be Des Moines.
The city was burning the night I returned to the Enclave at last to rescue Truly.
I search for the Enclave north of the splatter in the patchwork that is Ames, but can’t make out the walls past a line of trees on the horizon.
I wonder who’s gotten sick there. If I know anyone else who’s died. How the storeroom’s holding up. How Ara is, and her baby, Magnus’s son. How Kestral left to go get them.
Most of all, I hope Truly and Lauren are safe. That Julie’s alive, and that they know I love and didn’t abandon them.
I wave as we fly overhead, and pretend that they see me.