Good God, this is mad.” “No, it’s not mad. Staying on Earth would be mad.” Elizabeth peered into her cousin Fiona’s sad, beseeching gaze. Once upon a time, her blue eyes had held a constant twinkle of mischief, but even under the beaming sun on a cloudless day along the coast of Cumbria, Fiona’s eyes appeared a listless shade of gray. A lump burned in Elizabeth’s throat. She smoothed the wrinkles out of the blanket spread beneath them and flicked a stray ant back into the lush, green grass. Her hand lingered on the ground and she dug her fingers into the soil, unearthing the cool dirt as her chest tightened with the longing to stay. But Fiona was right. The sooner she left, the better. Remaining on Earth meant probable death, and a gruesome one at that. All around the world, presidents and leaders were falling and paying the price for the wars, famines, and diseases that were ravaging the planet.
