Epilogue

AURORA

Two months later…

Dark clouds covered the night sky. A streetlamp at the end of the alley was the the closest light source, leaving Foster and me crouching between buildings where it was difficult to see yet still felt far too exposed.

“You’re sure we’re not going to get arrested?” I wrinkled my nose, making the tape on my lip pull and pinch. “I wouldn’t survive in prison.”

“Not enough arts and crafts time,” Foster said. “I know.”

“Foster.” I elbowed him.

He grinned at me, adjusted my fake mustache, and said, “I’m sure. My biggest secret—I don’t choose places to paint at random. I sift through requests and choose the one where having a Shard piece will do the most good.”

Of course he did. My husband was secretly the sweetest. People would go places just to see his art. It would help any business draw customers.

“If they want you painting there, then why the disguises?” I asked.

“Two reasons.”

“Because you like to play dress up?” I teased.

“Obviously. Disguises make everything more fun.”

He did have a point. Along with my nerves, I was bouncing with excitement.

“What’s the second reason?” I asked.

“I hate people.”

“You do not.”

“I do. I don’t hate you, though.”

“You’d better not. But why do you work in a field that requires you to interact with people? Instead of being a lawyer, you could have done some kind of numbers job where the only person you interact with is a computer program.”

“I suck at numbers. And hiding my identity for these nighttime activities means people can’t show up and talk to me. I get a filter to live a quiet life.”

I shook the paint can he’d given me. “This is what you call quiet?”

“Yes.”

We got to work, and for a while, I just watched him. He really was a savant. I was more like a toddler splattering pureed vegetables on the smooth concrete wall.

“You don’t look like you’re feeling it,” he said.

“I’m bringing your piece down.”

He pulled something out of his bag—my paint set, brushes and everything. “I thought you might prefer your medium. You’re a brilliant artist, Aurora, and always have been.”

I made grabby hands for my supplies and grinned. “I know.”

We painted together, him with his sprays, me with my brush. And when it was done, it was glorious.

A massive jellyfish filled the foreground. A sea of its kin filled the back. With a deeper look, the ocean transformed into a sky, the tentacles into strings of balloons. It was hopeful and whimsical and perfect for the tiny non-profit aquarium.

“Now we have to tag it.” He left his mark in the corner.

What was I supposed to do for mine? I took a minute to think on it.

Then I knew.

I signed Roar E and painted a tiny dinosaur.

“It’s perfect,” Foster said.

A firework sizzled and popped over the pond across the street.

“Did you plan the fireworks?” I asked.

He shook his head. “You?”

I shook my head.

It was a happy coincidence.

I kissed Foster. His fake mustache tickled my lip, and I laughed.

Now it was perfect.

Good things didn’t just begin with a bang. The best adventures sizzled along the way. Twists and turns became challenges to overcome together, and later, memories to treasure. Whatever good things life had in store for me next, I looked forward to exploring them, with Foster by my side.

Thanks for reading Aurora and Foster’s story. I hope you had as much fun with them as I did.