Chapter 29
“Together.” Angelo said when Jo froze at the last room. The door by the entrance must be Jo’s bedroom.
He opened the door, turned on the light, and stepped inside. There was a narrow, north-facing window that had been overgrown by moss. A tree in full leaf pressed hard against the cracked glass. The overhead bulb behind a faded papier-mâché shade did little to light the room.
It was perhaps the most depressing place he’d ever been. A desk, a narrow bed, and a closet that stood empty. The walls had posters curling from the damp, of astronauts and the space shuttle. Of the Martian surface and fantastic science fiction spaceships.
“Those were from my ‘How far can I really get from Alaska?’ phase,” Jo stared at them blankly.
“I would say that culturally, you succeeded.”
“I don
