Lark's grip on Apollo's wrist didn't loosen until Evyn was at the glass. Only then did she release him, stepping forward with slow, deliberate steps. Her eyes locked onto the girl standing on the other side—impossibly alive in a place they'd been told was uninhabitable.

"They lied to us," Lark murmured.

"What?" Apollo asked, unsure if he'd heard her right.

"They said people can't survive out there. But she's here." Lark tore her gaze from Evyn and looked at Apollo, her expression hardening. "What else are they lying about?"

Apollo exhaled. "Whoa, let's not jump to conclusions. We don't even know if Evyn is human."

Lark blinked. "Evyn?"

"That's her name." He nodded toward the girl.

Evyn pressed a hand to the glass, watching them with keen eyes. Lark hesitated, then lifted her own hand, aligning her palm with Evyn's through the barrier.

"How do you talk to her?" Lark asked.

"Sign language, kind of. I only know the alphabet, so it's slow."

"What have you learned?"

"Just her name. I was scared someone would see, so I didn't ask anything else."

Evyn's gaze flicked between them, curiosity evident. Apollo could tell she wanted to be part of the conversation. He needed to find a way to include her.

He pointed at Lark and carefully signed: L-A-R-K.

Evyn repeated the sign and nodded. Then she turned to Lark and signed: E-V-Y-N.

Lark, catching on quickly, signed back. She was already a little faster than Apollo. Evyn's face lit up, and she waved. Lark, still slightly in awe, waved back.

Gathering herself, Lark signed: W-H-O A-R-E Y-O-U?

Evyn paused, then responded: H-U-M-A-N.

Apollo and Lark froze. Had she somehow heard their conversation? How did she know that was the exact question burning in Apollo's mind? They exchanged glances, then looked back at Evyn—who was laughing.

Lark quickly signed: E-A-R-T-H?

Evyn nodded.

Apollo exhaled sharply, struggling to wrap his mind around what was happening. "What is actually going on right now?"

"I have no idea," Lark breathed, still staring at Evyn. "But we need a better way to communicate with her."

"She knows sign language," Apollo pointed out. "We could find someone who knows it too and have them translate."

"No," Lark said quickly. "That's too risky. We can't let anyone else know about this."

"Why not?"

Lark turned to him, eyes wide. "Because people aren't supposed to survive out there! It's impossible." She shook her head, as if trying to shake loose the facts she'd always believed. "The sun is too hot, there's no water, no food—there's not even air!"

Apollo hesitated. "What if... after so many generations, people have adapted? Evolved?"

"That's not how it works," Lark said flatly.

"Well, kinda—"

"She's writing something!"

They both snapped their attention to Evyn, who slowly traced symbols into the dust on the glass.

𐐌 𐐶𐐮𐑇 𐐷𐐭 𐐿𐐳𐐼 𐑉𐐨𐐼 𐑄𐐮𐑅.

Apollo squinted, frustration welling in his chest. He wished he could understand.

Lark leaned in, studying the markings. Then her breath hitched.

"Oh! I know this!" she gasped, grabbing Apollo's arm in an iron grip. "I know what this is!"

"What? What?" Apollo yelped, prying himself free. "Tell me!"

"It's an old script—hardly used anymore. I can't believe she knows it. Her people must still use it!"

Apollo's heart pounded. "But is it English? Can we talk to her?"

"Yes! It's just a different way of writing. The words should still be the same." Lark was already thinking ahead, pacing in excitement. "We need textbooks and a doodle board. I have the books—do you have the board?"

Apollo blinked. "Uh... maybe? I haven't used one since my first years in school."

"Find one and meet me back here. We can actually talk to her!"

Without another word, Lark spun on her heel and sprinted toward the fields, heading home.

Apollo turned back to Evyn. Her brows furrowed, her expression a mix of curiosity and confusion.

Thinking fast, he signed: O-N-E M-O-M-E-N-T.

He waited until Evyn nodded, then took off after Lark.

Lark didn't live all the way down in the Barracks like Apollo did, but she still made the trip every morning to meet him so they could walk to work together. He appreciated it more than he could say—especially since a girl of her standing had no business being in a place like that.

Her family was on the cusp of Sovereign status, just a generation or two away. If Lark married someone with a higher standing instead of Apollo, her children might be free of debt entirely. But for some reason, she loved him—and she didn't seem to care about taking on his burdens. Their debts would combine the moment they married.

Lark refused to risk a big wedding. If the numbers didn't balance just right, one of them could be sent to Credit Prison that very day. She wasn't willing to take that chance. And Apollo? He couldn't bring himself to care. The only thing that mattered to him was being with her.

And not just because she was beautiful—though she was.

Her auburn hair skimmed her shoulders when she turned, catching the light like polished copper. Her green eyes were so clear it was like you could see straight into her brilliant mind. And she was brilliant. She worked and studied harder than anyone he knew. Sometimes, it made him feel guilty, but Lark always brushed off the comparison. We have different places in life, different dreams. Be happy with yours.

So he tried to be.

He had almost forgotten that his family would be home by the time he returned. He hadn't even thought of an excuse for leaving again. But Grandma, as always, had his back.

"Ah, let the boy go," she said when his parents started to protest. "He has far more important things to do than sit around with us old farts."

Apollo laughed and shot her a grateful look, pressing his hands together in a silent thanks. In one, he clutched the doodle board he'd found under his bed. In the other, a bottle of water.

By the time he reached the edge of the field, the bottle was empty. He scanned his watch before tossing it into the recycler. A fraction of his debt erased, just like that. His parents always made sure he recycled.

Lark was already at the glass when he arrived, sitting cross-legged with a book propped on her lap. Her bag was stuffed with textbooks and notebooks, no doubt packed in a hurry.

On the other side of the barrier, Evyn mirrored her posture, sitting in the sand and peering through the glass at the book in Lark's hands.

Apollo grinned as he approached. "Did you find the board?" Lark called.

"Yes, ma'am." He held it up. "Found it with my first-year graduation stuff."

"You haven't sold or recycled that yet?" Lark wrinkled her nose.

"Nah. My mom likes to hold onto memories." He sat beside her, handing over the board. "What have you figured out so far?"

Lark took the board, flipped it over, and quickly wrote:

CAN YOU READ THIS?

Lark turned the board toward Evyn, holding it out expectantly. The girl on the other side of the glass blinked at it, then gave a small shrug.

Lark nodded, as if she had expected as much. Without hesitation, she flipped the board back around and started writing again, her fingers moving with careful precision. Apollo leaned closer, watching curiously. At first, it looked like she was simply scribbling, but soon the shapes formed into something structured, something deliberate. Finally, she lifted the board again to reveal:

𐐗𐐰𐑌 𐐷𐐭 𐑉𐐨𐐼 𐑄𐐮𐑅?

They waited.

Then, to their delight, Evyn's face lit up. She clapped her hands together and nodded emphatically, mouthing the word "yes" over and over.

Lark beamed. "Now we're getting somewhere," she said, already flipping the board back to begin again. "Let's see what we can learn."

Time slipped away unnoticed as they worked. Lark spent nearly an hour drilling herself on the unfamiliar characters, slowly refining her strokes until she no longer needed to glance at her notes. Another hour passed as she painstakingly deciphered the shapes Evyn wrote backward on the glass. To Apollo's amazement, Lark's hand eventually moved faster than Evyn's, her sharp mind absorbing the script with remarkable ease.

And the information they uncovered was incredible.

Evyn's full name was Evyn Holloway. She lived in a large community near something called the Lost River. It wasn't close—her people were traveling across the White Desert to reach another part of the world. The journey wasn't desirable, but it was necessary. There were about thirty people in her group, and they had been receiving mysterious transmissions from an unknown source. Those transmissions had led them here.

Even more astonishing was what Evyn revealed about her origins.

Her people hadn't been on Noria nearly as long as the citizens of the domed city. While Apollo's ancestors had lived here for generations, Evyn's group had arrived much more recently—though they hadn't come alone. There had been others, but some had been exiled. Those outcasts had chosen to strike out on their own, vanishing into the unknown.

Apollo's mind swirled with questions.

"Ask her—" he started, but Evyn suddenly looked over her shoulder, her body tensing. She held up a single finger, signaling for them to wait, and then quickly scrawled a message on the glass.

𐐌 𐐸𐐰𐑂 𐐻𐐭 𐑀𐐬 𐑌𐐵. 𐐜𐐩 𐐪𐑉 𐐿𐐫𐑊𐐮𐑍 𐑁𐐫𐑉 𐐯𐑂𐑉𐐨𐐶𐐲𐑌 𐐻𐐭 𐑀𐐰𐑄𐐲𐑉.

Lark's eyes flicked down to her notes, verifying a translation before reading aloud.

"I have to go now. They're calling for everyone to gather."

Apollo frowned. "Can you ask her if we can meet again?"

Lark quickly turned back to the board, writing:

𐐗𐐰𐑌 𐐶𐐨 𐑋𐐨𐐻 𐐰𐑌𐐼 𐐻𐐫𐐿 𐐶𐐮𐑄 𐐷𐐭 𐐲𐑀𐐯𐑌?

Evyn bit her lip, hesitating. Then she scribbled a reply on the glass:

𐐣𐐩𐐺𐐨. 𐐎𐐨'𐑉𐐨 𐑉𐐯𐑅𐐻𐐮𐑍 𐐸𐐨𐑉 𐑁𐐫𐑉 𐐩 𐑁𐐷𐐭 𐐼𐐩𐑆. 𐐌 𐐶𐐮𐑊 𐐻𐑉𐐴 𐐻𐐭 𐑅𐐨 𐐷𐐭 𐐻𐐲𐑋𐐫𐑉𐐬.

Lark read aloud, "She says her family is only resting here for a few days, but she'll try to see us tomorrow morning."

Apollo exhaled in relief. "Good. That's good."

Lark nodded, already scribbling something else.

"What are you saying?" Apollo asked.

"I'm asking if she can meet at the same time tomorrow."

When she turned the board to show Evyn, the girl nodded in agreement. But before she could write anything else, she suddenly turned her head again, as if listening to something beyond the glass. Then she looked back at them and spoke.

Lark instinctively leaned forward. "What did you say?"

Apollo had been watching closely, and for once, he was proud to contribute. "She says she has to go now," he said, reading her lips.

Lark pressed her hand against the glass in a silent farewell, a soft smile tugging at her lips. Evyn mirrored the motion, then turned and sprinted away, her light frame kicking up tiny clouds of sand as she disappeared over the crest of the hill.

Apollo watched her go, his mind spinning with everything they had just learned.

This was just the beginning.

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