Astrid the Astronaut's Arc

Chapter 12 of 12

By afternoon, Echo had set up a small wooden studio near the rocks. Tall windows caught the light. Inside, jars of paint lined the shelves. He worked at an easel by the open door, where the sphere could see him clearly. Astrid stood at the threshold and watched the red lights blink above the roof. She knew the problem now. The sphere heard every word. If Echo said the wrong thing, or if Astrid coached him, his teacher would take him away. Astrid had no way to know what the sphere reported. She needed to tell Echo he was safe without speaking it aloud. Astrid went to her room and found her small audiobook player, the one shaped like a slim book. She loaded a recording of her own voice reading a children's story about stars. Nothing secret. Nothing about teachers. Just a calm voice, steady and warm. She walked back and set it on the studio step with the earbuds coiled neatly beside it. Echo picked it up. He looked at her. Astrid pointed to a bright star sculpture she had carried out and placed on the grass beneath the sphere. "Work there when you want," she said, loud enough for the sphere. "Listen while you paint. The light is good." Echo put one earbud in. He carried his easel to the star and sat down inside its glow. He smiled, small and certain. He understood. The signal was the gift itself: she trusted him to speak for himself now. She would not whisper behind his teacher's back. The sphere drifted lower, watching Echo paint beside the star. Astrid walked away and did not look back. She had given up the last thing she could control. Whatever the sphere reported, Echo's words would be his own. That was the only ground she could stand on now.