She looked down at the receipt. The stars she’d drawn seemed to pulse faintly under the diner’s fluorescent lights. Or maybe she was just exhausted.

He left a $20 bill on the table, untouched lemon water, and walked out into the rain. Brittany never saw him again.

There it was: the Anchor, glowing faintly gold, right where she’d drawn it. And beneath it, a path she hadn’t noticed before—a trail of crushed quartz leading into a grove of silver-barked trees.

But safe doesn’t pay the bills, and safe doesn’t explain why she started drawing constellations on the back of receipts.

“It’s not,” Brittany replied, surprised she answered at all.

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