“Yes, but . . .”
“Tell me something cool about your house, Beckett.”
“We have gardens all around, and my Aunt Dilly put up bird houses and feeders everywhere. They’re all painted bright colors; it looks like crazy people live there, but it’s really beautiful.”
“It does sound beautiful; I can’t wait to see it. How will we get to your house from Heighton Port?”
“Um, good question.” Beckett’s fingers were gripping and rubbing on his scalp. “I have my motorcycle, but your paddleboard won’t fit — I’ll figure it out. I could rent a truck or something.”
Luna’s faint faraway voice said, “I need to go. I have farther to paddle and then batten down the hatches, except I don’t own hatches.”
“Goodnight Luna, I miss you.”
“Goodnight Beckett. I miss you too.”
