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"Correction," I say, sticking my tongue between my teeth as I tie two sticks together with an alarming amount of enthusiasm, "we didn’t make you do anything. You chose this life."

Elias, flat on his back beside us, holding the string and not helping at all, snorts. "Yeah, Luna. You picked this disaster."

"Regretting everything," she deadpans.

I glance over at her, grinning wide enough to show teeth. "You wound me, darling. I only commit mild crimes against craftsmanship."

The kite looks like it’s seen better centuries. One of the corners droops dangerously, and I’m fairly certain I used the wrong kind of string, but I’m too invested now. I can feel Luna’s eyes on me like a flame against my skin, like she’s pretending she’s unimpressed but she’s absolutely cataloging every stupid, ridiculous thing I do.

"You’re gonna love it when it flies," I say, tossing her a wink. "This baby’s got character."

Elias sits up finally, rubbing the back of his neck, and chimes in, "Character? Silas, that thing’s a crime against gravity."

"I’m a crime against gravity," I shoot back. "You’ve seen me fall down stairs."

Elias leans in toward her conspiratorially. "You should’ve seen him last week. Fell off the roof trying to hang a jar of honey in Ambrose’s window. Said it was for ambiance."

"It was," I defend. "Sticky ambiance."

Luna groans, tipping her head back to the sky, and I swear it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. "You two are chaos incarnate."

I finish tying off the last knot on the kite and glance over at her, voice dropping just enough to be real. "You know, Luna… no one’s ever had as much fun with me as you do."

And it’s true. The girls before her? They laughed when I made them. She laughs because she can’t help it. And that? That’s everything.

The wind isn’t exactly perfect for flying a kite. Too wild, too unpredictable, but I’ve never let something as boring as common sense stop me.

Elias and I stand at opposite ends of the meadow now, the monstrosity of a kite—our crooked, patched-together disaster—held between us like it’s some sacred relic. Luna lounges in the grass, arms folded under her head, pretending not to watch, but I know she’s biting the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. Her eyes flick to me when she thinks I’m not looking. She always watches me.

"Alright," Elias shouts, holding the end of the string. "Let’s get this piece of shit airborne."

"You wound me," I yell back, grinning like an idiot. "This is a masterpiece. A technological marvel."

"It’s held together with wishful thinking and twine, Silas."

"Exactly! It’s my magnum opus."

I take a running start, the kite jerking in my grip like a dying bird, wind slapping at the uneven edges. I shout over my shoulder, "On my signal, Elias!"

The wind howls through the trees. I lift the kite above my head and sprint across the field.

"NOW!"

Elias yanks the string, I throw the kite—and for a second, an actual second, it lifts. The thing wobbles skyward, soaring higher than I expected, its crooked frame slicing through the clouds.

"See!" I crow, spinning toward Luna. "What did I tell you?"

The kite lurches, jerks violently to the left, then nose-dives.

Straight into a tree.

"Shit!" I shout, already jogging toward it as the string snaps and the kite crumples halfway up the trunk like some broken-winged creature.

Elias is howling with laughter, falling backward into the grass. "Your magnum opus just committed suicide."

I glare up at the shredded remains caught in the branches, one bright pink strip fluttering like a flag of surrender.

"That was sabotage," I call back. "Clearly, the tree is against me."