That night, as she changed into her pajamas, Sami glanced at the mirror at the foot of her bed, its silver frame like the curling white waves on the ocean. Tonight, the glass was calm and silent—nothing called to her from within its center, and Sami wondered if anything ever would again. She tossed her clothes into the hamper with a sigh, catching a last faint whiff of the airy Silverworld ocean on her T-shirt. Good night, Dorsom, she thought, looking again at the silvery mirror.

A few minutes earlier, she’d said good night to both her mother and grandmother, who were sitting together in the living room, laughing and sighing, catching up with each other, talking like two people who’d been separated for a couple of years. Which, Sami supposed, they kind of were.

Now she could just make out their voices through her bedroom wall. Her bedsheets were cool and delicious as she stretched out, enjoying how good it felt to be home again. Really and truly home. Though she already missed her Flicker friends. She thought about Bat and Natala and Ashrafieh, their dear faces reemerging in her imagination. Then she let herself think about Dorsom. She missed him in the way she missed a best friend, wishing he were right there, the two of them laughing and whispering about their adventures, and she wondered if there wasn’t some way to bring Dorsom back to the Actual World for a visit. Sami closed her eyes, and images rushed back to her of waving to Rotifer, of flying and breathing in the Silverworld Sea, of falling into the void and slowly rising out. She recalled a moment in the grayness when her grandmother’s Flicker told her, Never be anything less than you are.

“Sometimes I’m not sure who I am,” Sami had said.

Ashrafieh had gazed into Sami’s face as they floated together in that endless void, before they began their escape. Not-knowing is the question for all Actuals, Sami, she’d said. But it’s a good question—to wonder who you are—because it means you have the ability to grow, change, and explore. The most important things are freedom and courage—whether you are Actual or Flicker. Never let go of your freedom or your courage, whoever you become.

“I know,” Sami said. “And never, ever give up.”

Never, ever, ever, the Flicker agreed as the two of them looked up toward that very distant opening.

Sami scanned the room sleepily. It felt like things were right in the world. The sky beyond her window was so deep, the stars seemed to pop. For a moment, in fact, she thought she saw, just beside the moon, the outline of a person drifting within the night. Inside that outline, a constellation appeared to glow with blue light. And one red star.

As the night hung over the house, the memory of Ashrafieh’s words shimmered all around her: ever, ever, ever, ever.