While General Stone stood briefing the group, Mia lay on Trevor's bed, scrolling through emails. She'd read Andrea's last email so many times, she could probably recite it, but it was all she had to keep her mind off the craziness of tonight.

  Ms. Lawrence had gone mental, which meant she was unavailable. General Stone would need to prepare them for tomorrow. The landing was happening regardless of what anyone felt. Red Rock had successfully landed five times before. Surely, their crew wasn't the first to experience hiccups.

  It wasn't like Peyton was flying the rocket. None of them had any significant roles tomorrow other than to shut up and do as they were told. They could be drugged into compliance if need be. She thought of her seat on the ship, waiting, and her eyes drifted back to the computer, escaping to a different email, this one from her mom. She'd gotten a cat.

  Dear Mia,

  I'm still here.. still missing you, but Boots has become such good company. He likes to sleep in your bed, which I know you'd hate. But I let him because he comes out smelling like lavender, your signature scent. It's nice to have someone to talk to. I'd rather be a crazy cat lady than a middle-aged, divorced hermit.

  I went on a date last week. Well, not so much of a date as a cat play date. That sounds sad, but it gets better—so the vet I've been taking Boots to keeps pressuring me to adopt another cat. Boots isn't like that. He enjoys spending time alone (you'll see when you meet him).

  Last week, while paying for Boot's rabies vaccine, the vet brought out a completely random cat for adoption. I thought I would die. But then, out of nowhere, this guy spoke up and said Boots and his cat have playdates all the time, so there was no need for me to get a second cat. I was shocked and unsure what to do, so I paid the bill and rushed to my car. I was getting Boots in the carrier when Bill came up and asked me if I'd like to get our cats together. It sounds so awkward, but he's pretty good-looking, so I said YES!

  We've been on one cat playdate, and he mentioned something about coming over this weekend. I don't want to get too excited, but I hope to hear from him soon. I wish you were here to help me pick out something to wear. It's been so long, Mia. I may have forgotten everything I ever knew about dating.

  Of course, my life sounds silly compared with yours. I can't believe you'll be walking around on another planet in the next few days. I hope to get one more email before you land, but I'm thankful for the one you sent earlier. I love you so much. Everything will work out with Trevor and Sloan. Let yourself be confused. Confusion is part of the human experience. Just focus on staying safe and email me ASAP. I'm so proud of you. Boots and I will be glued to the screen watching your big day.

  A million hugs and kisses to you, baby!

  Mom

  Tears leaked from Mia's eyes as she closed them, reaching down to take Trevor's hand. Her touch didn't wake him, but his breathing quickened audibly. Mia wondered if his dream was full of worry. It didn't matter. His body was obviously desperate for sleep. She carefully loosened her grip and let his fingers splay back onto the comforter.

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  The Trevor she'd launched with had been full of hope. He'd been the reason she'd made it through space camp, quarantine, and everything else. What was happening to him? How long had he been hiding the mind control thing? Was there a connection between it and what had happened to Ms. Lawrence tonight? It was common knowledge that radiation levels could mess with your mood and mind. Had anyone ever clarified whether these changes were permanent?

  Mia thought back to Rebecca Timberland, so perfect and poised the night of their space camp graduation. She hadn't mentioned any residual effects of traveling to and from Mars. Why hadn't they known about Rebecca before that night? The entire mission revolved around them becoming the first kids to land on Mars. But they weren't. Why had Red Rock misled an entire nation with that stupid essay contest? The whole thing was starting to feel suspicious. But before her anxiety could spiral any further, a man's voice called up from the bottom of Trevor's loft ladder.

  "Mia, are you up there?"

  Mia froze. Being in Trevor's loft was against "house" rules. She bolted upright, pulling on socks at breakneck speed, steadying her voice before she spoke.

  "Yes, General Stone. I'm keeping an eye on him. He's asleep. Would you like me to come down?"

  "Nope, I'm coming up."

  Mia, horrified, jumped off the bed and into a rolling computer chair seconds before General Stone's peppered crew cut crowned the opening to Trevor's room.

  "How is he?" Stone asked, not looking at Mia, who'd gone white as a ghost.

  "Good," she managed, waiting for a lecture.

  "I just finished briefing the others about tomorrow. Did you get a chance to read through the manual? Are you aware of what you can and can't carry off the ship?"

  "I did. I mean, I do know, and I'm packed. I came to help Trevor pack and check on him."

  "Good, good," General Stone replied. "How is he then?"

  "Scared," Mia said quietly. "I don't think he's been sleeping much."

  "He doesn't look too scared," Rocky said, glancing at Trevor.

  "Well, he is. He's imagining things and having a tough time falling and staying asleep."

  "What is he imagining?"

  Mia hesitated and then decided on something vague, not having the energy to go into the whole thing with Stone the night before landing.

  "He's imagining bad things are happening. He's kind of losing himself if you know what I mean," she said.

  "What sort of bad things?" Rocky asked.

  "I know it sounds crazy, but he thinks he can move things with his mind. He thinks he made Ms. Lawrence's landing journal move earlier."

  Rocky shook his head and turned to glance again at Trevor, who looked unwell even in his sleep.

  "I know that sounds disturbing, but a mental health crisis can be a normal response to something this momentous. You're about to embark on an adventure that most people can only dream of, and at such a young age. It's never been done before. That's real pressure. Once we land, things will settle down. It won't be as different down there as you think. You'll have a daily routine, lots of rules to follow, and the same shitty food. You'll see. Everything will be fine. I need you to be like robots tomorrow. Ms. Lawrence will be with you just like at launch. She's spending the night in the sick bay so we can monitor her, but she was back to her old self before I left less than an hour ago. There's nothing to worry about. Trevor will be fine. You'll all be just fine. I need you to trust me. Do you have any questions about the pre-landing process? That's what I'm here to discuss."

  And that was it. General Stone wasn't thinking about Trevor or his telekinesis. He wasn't thinking about them at all.

  Mia knew she'd regret not asking more questions, but an overwhelming yearning to be back home took her breath away. She'd never been this homesick before, and the only question she could think of was why everyone was pretending Rebecca Timberland wasn't the first kid to go to Mars?