Key is with the old ones, staring like they do, even though she is not truly old yet—she just wants to be, desperately. She’s been talking about becoming an angel since the day we met and watches the old ones with reverence, admiration, like they’ve achieved something where she’s failed. Molly is still by herself. It’s not natural for us to be alone before we’re old, I think, before realizing that I’m alone, too. And part of me wants to stay that way, but another part of me longs to join the others…. I’ve already forgotten a few of Naida’s memories, though…. Maybe if I’m alone, I’ll be able to hold on to more of them. I slink around the ship, settle with my back against the exterior wall. Its name is written above me, almost faded entirely by the water. Glasgow isn’t its full name—there are words that came before it, but all we can read is of Glasgow. I reach up, trace my fingers over the name on the slick wood. Just as I do so, a shadow flickers by me.
