I have washed my hands twice already and the air is thick with the scent of lemons and bleach from scouring the table. It’s almost dark. In this weather, the sun doesn’t so much fade as slam shut like a door. One minute it’s light, and the next the light is gone, erased from the sky, a blanket smothering the heavens. I wish we could have timed this better. I’d have liked to do this in the day, but lately time is becoming more and more aggressive, turning against our little band with hundreds of counter moves. Pretty soon it will be the enemy outright. I can’t stop it. I can’t even slow it down. I don’t stand a chance against it. It won’t be long until the rest of the team arrives. Boone and Henry are on their way from home, and Violet has gone to rob her father. That’s how she said it, anyhow; she’s clearly still not comfortable with what she needs to do. At this point, though, comfort isn’t really our priority. God knows I would have loved to get some more alone time in with Ezra, but I know that from here on out, there is safety in numbers.