Slowly, the dinner crowd trickled away. Some campers headed for the campfire to sing. Others went back to their cabins. I stayed behind at the Poseidon table, alone, watching the moonlight ripple across Long Island Sound.

In the distance, I could see Grover and Juniper walking along the beach, hands linked, talking quietly. For the first time in what felt like forever, the world didn’t seem like it was about to explode.

It was… peaceful.

“Hey.”

Kayla slid onto the bench beside me like she’d been there all along.

“Happy birthday.”

She was holding a lopsided cupcake with blue icing that was definitely trying to escape down the sides.

I stared at it. Then at her. “What?”

“It’s August eighteenth,” she said. “Your birthday, right?”

I blinked.