“Good Ivan, good boy,” Maya says when I lumber into my box. I hear the clicker, and I’m rewarded with a tiny marshmallow.
When I’m settled, Maya gives me a sweet drink that tastes of mango and something bitter.
My eyelids grow heavy. I want to see what happens next, but I am sleepy, so sleepy.
I dream I’m with Tag and we’re swinging from vines while Stella watches. The sun slices through the thick ceiling of trees and the breeze tastes like fruit.