Chapter 1

The ever-present knot in my chest loosens the further I drive from Texas. From him. White lines skip below the rental car, scrub dotting the red dirt flying past. With every mile marker, the anxiety that's been my close companion finally, finally eases. I almost can't remember how to breathe without it, the only constant in my shitty relationship. My eyes skate over the map on my phone, as a tinny voice tells me I'm almost there. Twenty minutes and counting, thank you very much, brand-new Siri.

Even if it's just some algorithm, it's nice to finally have someone helpful to talk to.

I missed the last three annual camping trips. Is it still considered annual when I didn't attend? I purse my lips, regretting it as pain cracks across the barely healed split. Wind whips through the car, sending a tendril of hair curling over the bruise blossoming into green and yellow on my cheek.

The radio crackles to life, and my eyes widen in surprise.

"The last supermoon of the season tonight, J.C., isn't that right? And skies should be exceptionally clear for the meteor shower, especially for everyone out in the Lower Pecos Valley. Get your wishes ready, because there will be stars."

I snort, pleasure curling through me. I would smile, except it still hurts. My sisters are only twenty minutes away. It's been too long.

Too long I've wasted time on Brad and his anger and his manipulation and his outright lies and the scarier smaller ways he wound me closer to him. I blow out a breath, my heart racing like the wisps of white clouds overhead. Brad and I are done. For good. Forever. I glance in the rearview, the small suitcase I'd thrown together in the dead of night still there, tucked in and safe. I left everything else in his house.

None of it matters.

A sign looms in front of me, and Siri doggedly reminds me to exit onto the national park's packed dirt road. The knot in my chest loosens even more. Ten minutes and I'll see my sisters again. An emotion flutters through me, and it takes me far too long to realize it's hope.

The radio sputters in and out as the rental car gallantly tries to find a signal way out here in the canyon. The road narrows to two lanes, and I slow down, winding down the canyon to the campsite.

Gravel crunches under the tires, and I pull into one of the many empty spots, gathering my confidence and trying to figure out how I'd explain.

Three years.

Three years I don't want to talk about. I close my eyes, shutting out the sun, the sounds of the campground. Three years I spent grinding myself down, making myself smaller, doing anything I could to appease him. To be what he wanted.

I blow out a breath, steeling myself for my sister's questions. For their concern, the pity I don't want or think I can handle. I want it to be as easy with them as it used to be. My hands curl around the keys, and I yank them from the ignition.

"She's here! She's here!" Ali's shriek echoes across the red brown canyon, amplified. Any fear I've held for our reunion vanishes, and I turn in time to see my little sister's bright blonde ponytail bobbing as she runs for me. Mina follows behind, squealing and arms thrown up as though she's ready to fold me into a hug even though she's halfway across the campsite.

I can't help it. I break into a smile, the coppery taste of blood slicking across my tongue as the wound opens back up, and I run to meet them, kicking up dust behind me.

I'm home. Sure, it's a campsite in the middle of New Mexico, but my sisters will always be home. They wrap me up in their arms, my reddish blonde hair tangling around them as a wind blasts through the canyon.

And that's all it takes for me to start crying, something in my chest breaking in half at the sight of them.

"Lana, Lana, hey, it's okay. You're here now. We've got you," Mina murmurs, their hands tightening around me.

"Ali, go get her bag," she instructs, and our little sister runs off. I cling to Mina, burrowing my face in her shoulder, hot tears streaking down my cheeks. Her hand strokes up and down her back.

"You don't have to say anything. We can just be here." With that, she steers me away from the parking lot, her arm firm around my waist. "I want you to know that we're proud of you. Dad would be proud of you."

I shake my head, knowing she's wrong. "Dad would be pissed."

"Not at you," she throws me a look, and I note the way her gaze stutters over the day-old bruise on my cheek, the swollen upper lip. "Definitely not at you."

"I filed a police report before I left."

"Good." She squeezes my hip. "That's real good, Lana." Mina tilts her head as we walk, waiting for more. But never pushing me.

"It was the first time." Not that I hadn't been afraid before, knew in my heart it would escalate with him. It always did, didn't it?

"I'm glad you left." Her remark almost sounds innocuous, but there's a thread of viciousness there that pleases me.

"I missed you."

"What about me?" Ali appears on the other side of me, out of breath from running to and from the car with my bag.

"I missed you too, Ali lamb." I press my cheek against hers, and she sighs, her arm wrapping around my back too. It could be claustrophobic, having the two of them right on top of me. But it feels so right, their support, their love. It feels like a piece of me has slotted back into place.

She groans, the back bouncing behind her. "What did you pack in here?"

I stiffen, and Mina shoots her a warning look.

"Never mind," Ali says meekly.

"It's okay." I nod, and suddenly I want to tell them everything. Need to let it out, like it's some festering wound that needs to be drained. "It's everything I took. Not much, really. Some papers I need. My laptop. Clothes. You know."

"Oh, Lana," Ali breathes, her blue eyes wide. "God, I'm so glad you're here. And you're safe. We've got you."

I make myself smile at her again, even though my eyes well with tears. "I know, Ali lamb."

"We've got you," Mina repeats, and there's steel in her voice. I lean my head on her shoulder briefly, then straighten at the sight in front of me.

"You brought dad's old camper?!" They've parked the old RV next to a giant desert sage, and the plant perfumes the hot air.

Ali strokes the side of the beast lovingly. "Hell yeah we did. Hope you're ready for some serious stargazing tonight. We brought all of his old equipment."

"Not all of it," Mina corrects, grinning at me. "But enough."

I sigh, running a hand along the burnt-orange paint job. "I wish dad was still here."

"We all do," Ali says.

"But we've got the next best thing," Mina adds.

"What's that?" I muse, scrutinizing the camper. It's a relic of our shared childhood.

"You," Lana and Ali say in unison, then share a smile.

They pull me into another hug, and I let myself cry again, mourning the lost time between us.

Sunset blazes across the sky, ribbons of color so extreme they seem fake. Hot pink and crimson and deep orange, all competing in one last gasp before the velvet midnight sky cloaks the world in night.

We've spent the afternoon talking, catching up. Skirting around my problems. Talking about Ali's wanderlust, her inability to find anything after college that makes her feel excited. About Mina's career, which sounds incredible… even though she seems less than enthused about it.

Finally, we're silent, roasting marshmallows and watching the riotous sky. I pull my marshmallow off the fire, blowing out the fire and singing my hands on the still-hot char.

"I can't believe you eat them burnt, Lana Kit." Ali wrinkles her nose, huddling into her blanket.

My chest aches at hearing her say my full name, just like dad used to.

"I like mine burnt too." Mina's is more than burnt though, it's a torch against the gathering night. She holds it aloft, her nose wrinkling. "I may have overdone it."

Ali erupts into laughter, effervescent as ever.

"I missed you both so much," I whisper, then stuff my marshmallow into my mouth, like that will solve the fact that my throat is dry, tears threatening again.

"Well good!" Ali says, popping another marshmallow on her stick. "If you hadn't, I would be very upset."

Mina laughs, and I join in, though my charred marshmallow has half-welded my jaw shut.

"Oh, look," I gasp, pointing at the sky. The sunset has given up, the last gasp of color fading on the horizon. Night purples across the heavens, the stars here so bright and clear it's almost as though I could reach out and touch them. They swirl and eddy, competing for attention.

"Ugh. They always make me sad." Ali says in between bites.

Mina raises an eyebrow at me, and my lips quirk in response.

"You know, how most of the stars we see are already dead? That their light takes so long to get here?" Ali shrugs, still staring up. "It's kinda depressing."

"Look, there's Orion." Mina points up at the sky, and I follow her finger. "Honestly, I still can't believe mom and dad named us after them."

I smile, remembering how he used to lay us on the roof at our old house, pointing out the clusters of stars that made up Orion's belt. Alnilam became Ali Lamn, our baby sister. Ali lamb. Mintaka was Mina's cluster, Mina Kat. And then there was me, the middle sister, Lana Kit – Alnitak cluster.

"I don't know, I always thought it was kind of cool," I say. A memory of Brad rushes over me, the way he hated my middle name. He hated so much about me, in the end. Why hadn't I left sooner?

"I think it's cool too," Ali says, squeezing my hand. Her fingers are sticky with marshmallow, but I cling to it all the same.

"I didn't say it wasn't cool," Mina grumps. "I still think it's odd."

"He was an astronomer. I think it's neat."

"He was a little obsessive," Ali admits, wrinkling her nose as she stares at the constellation.

Mina snorts. "A little."

"Do you think she ever thinks about us?" Mina and I go quiet at Ali's question, the old, shared hurt causing an ache in my chest. She doesn't have to clarify; Mina and I both know she's talking about mom.

"Do you remember her, Ali?" I ask, my voice soft. She was only two or three when mom left. All I possess are snatches of her face, the odd lullaby, a scent memory triggered in passing.

She shakes her head, teeth worrying her lower lip. "I think it's funny she went along with dad's name ideas and then left us all. Well, not funny." She sighs. "You know what I mean."

I watch her for a moment, then turn my attention back to the meteor shower.

A star streaks across the sky, and I'm filled with an odd sense of déjà vu. It turns my stomach, my breath seizing in my chest. Mina's mouth is parted, Ali's delicate features scrunched up. I shake it off, setting my roasting stick down. Probably dehydrated from all the crying I've done today.

Still…

"Are we going to wish?" Ali asks. I press my hand to stomach, trying to ease the sudden sense of foreboding wending through me.

"Of course, we are." Mina smiles at her. "You go first, Lana."

I try to smile, watching the meteors ignite in the atmosphere. What do I wish for? It's been so long since I've done anything but survive. I'm not even sure who I am anymore.

"Are we doing it out loud?" Ali asks again, pulling her blanket tight around her.

"That's the tradition." Mina shoots me an exasperated look, the firelight casting her features in a red glow. Another weird dad quirk. He'd always wanted us to put our wishes out into the universe. Super weird considering what an obsessed scientist he was. Super sad considering he always wished for mom to come back, something we all used to do.

Another score of meteors blaze across the black press of night.

And just like that, I know what I want to wish for.

"I wish I knew who I'm supposed to be," I whisper to the falling stars.

Mina grips my hand, sorrow flitting across her face. "I'm not gonna lie, Lana, I'd like to meet that bastard in a back alley with a lead pipe."

Despite the seeming non-sequitur, I know she blames Brad for my loss of self. But he's only partially to blame— I let him make me small, folding into myself like an origami masterpiece until I'd all but disappeared.

Ali tips her head back and laughs. "A lead pipe? Who says that? They don't even make lead pipes anymore"

I grin as she laughs at Mina, who's transfixed by the sky.

"I wish I was doing something important with my life," she says, hunching her shoulders. I squeeze her hand, but she keeps her gaze on the twinkling light of stars that died millions of years ago.

It's Ali's turn, and we look to her. She lays back, lacing her hands behind her head. Slowly, I lay down too, leaving the crackling fire out of my sight line. I drink in the sky, the constellations and planets as familiar and foreign as returning home after a year away. Mina lays down too, laying her knees against my hip.

"I wish that we three find true love and adventure." Ali speaks with the air of a queen making a decree. It should be funny, the way she sketches a design in the air, her voice accented. But the feeling of déjà vu increases, sending skitters down my spine. A beat passes, the anxious tug in my stomach increasing. The world seems to shift slightly, and I blink, trying to regain my equanimity.

"Did you guys…" I start to ask, then stop. They're already so worried about me. I don't need to make it worse.

"Huh."

"Okay, you felt it too?" Ali asks, turning her head towards us.

"Probably some kind of vagal response from laying down. Or altitude," Mina reasons. She hands me a bottle of water. "Here. Hydrate."

"We're in a canyon," Ali protests.

"It's still higher here than where we all were."

I drink, feeling strange. Sleepy. Mina and Ali continue to argue, and I'm vaguely aware of Ali snuggling next to me to watch the sky as we all fall silent.

And then I'm not aware of anything at all.