A narrow plank path jutted from the edge of Palamos’ house toward the ocean. The city’s extreme heat was replaced with a breeze and the ocean’s spray. The beach was deserted. It was after 2 A.M. The Sip and Twirl dance club near the ferry dock would be packed. Stopping for a moment, Neal took in the enormity of the space around him—the limitless expanse of the star-cluttered sky sweeping down to meet the ocean. Dewalt ran ahead to the ocean’s black edge as Neal lay back in the sand. He knew the big dipper, but the others were vague patterns. As a boy, he’d lie on the driveway of his parent’s home in Missouri and tried to figure out which constellation was which. There was a belt, twins, an ox. His father had given him an astronomy map, but never had the time to explain it, and the designs
