The phone alarm woke Sam in darkness. She went to the living room, found her sister sleeping, and shook her shoulder. “Wake up,” she said. Elena groaned.

Sam scrambled three eggs for their breakfast, left half on the table, and went to her room to finish dressing. She came out and turned on the living room light. The whole front of the house was lit bright now. Elena covered her head with her blanket. “Get up,” Sam said. “You have to drive me.”

“Drive yourself.”

“No. You have to take the car today.”

“No,” Elena said. Her face was still covered. “What time is it?”

Sam checked her phone. Three fifty-six. “Already four. You need to come on.” She could put Elena, squinty and pajamaed, into the passenger seat for the ride to the harbor—that’d be no problem—but they had to leave.

Elena brought the blanket down. “You go.”

“You can’t—”

“Go. I’ll find a ride with someone else today, okay?”

“With who?”

“Kristine.”

The other server at the club. Kristine was forever acting as though she and Elena were best friends. Sam didn’t like her, the stupid texts she sent, her attempts at inside jokes.

“Okay?” Elena’s eyes were shut.

Sam hesitated. Logistically, it made sense. “You’re going to get a ride with her. You’re not walking.”

“Got it.”

“Can you text me when—”

“Sam,” Elena said. “I’m good. Please turn off the light when you leave, thank you.”

So Sam walked out alone. Above her, the sky was black, scattered with endless stars, glittering. The moon was already below the horizon. She would see the sun rise from the galley, after her shift started, as the night lifted gradually to show powdery blue dawn. For now, though, the darkness held.

Seeing the stars spread out reminded Sam of being a little girl. She and Elena used to have summer sleepovers outside; they used to walk these woods together; they used to point skyward, tell stories, make up the names of different constellations. The Little Hare was one, she remembered. The Bearded Dwarf. But she couldn’t remember which stars corresponded to which patterns they’d drawn. Really, they must have pointed to a different bunch of dots every time.

The air was cool and damp. The trees rustled. She started the car. Somewhere nearby, she imagined, a creature stirred.