Unknown 9 by Layton Green (each kindness read aloud txt) 📕

common room. Most of the titles concerned either world history or biographies of famous scientists, inventors, explorers, and other luminaries who had shaped the boundaries of the world.

Is there a theme? Were all these people members of the Leap Year Society?

Andie stepped through the French doors to the terrace and leaned on the wrought-iron railing, absorbing the towers and steeples rising above the jigsaw puzzle of terra-cotta rooftops. Cal was asleep on the couch. Earlier, he had impressed her by whipping up a red sauce with fresh Roma tomatoes, herbs, onions, and peppers. The aroma still lingered, mingling with the flowers on the terrace and the dusty stone smell of the rooftops.

Her eyes roamed to the heavens. The night was mild and clear, the moon still below her sight line. Stargazing had always calmed her, given her a sense of belonging that she had never found anywhere else. As a teen, whenever she felt as if her father and the rest of the world had failed her, she would drive to a nearby field and sit alone on a blanket. As the crickets chirped around her, she would feel absorbed by the stars, drawn into that infinite dark as if her soul were drifting upward, merging with the universe, becoming part of something greater.

She still got that same peaceful feeling, except now she knew vastly more about outer space, and it enriched the experience. The Hubble Telescope—orbiting above Earth right that very moment—could peer so far away that it took snapshots of the residual light of galaxies colliding more than ten billion years in the past, drawing closer and closer to the beginning of the universe.

Those images were mind-boggling, an entire undiscovered country. Yet Andie preferred using her own two eyes on a moonless night in the countryside. Unaided by a refracting lens, she could look up and pinpoint star clusters, nebulae, comets, other galaxies and planets, the eerie star-birthing glow of the Milky Way.

It was nothing short of a miracle. There it all was, outer space itself and swarms of distant stars, right above us every single night, a direct conduit to the boundless beauty and mystery of the universe.

Where stargazing had once made her feel grounded, she now knew that perspective was an illusion, that if she raised her arms above her head an observer from far enough away would observe her spinning like a top on the Earth’s surface at one thousand miles per hour, racing around the sun at sixty-seven thousand miles per hour, and hurtling through the Milky Way at nearly five hundred thousand miles per hour. Nothing was static. Nothing alone. Andie was born in the furnace of those stars, and she was passing through life like a celestial whirling dervish with mind-bending velocity—reaching, searching, absorbing, exuding, both infinite and mortal.

She closed her eyes and held them shut, feeling strangely unmoored by the night sky that evening, trying to center herself amid the madness that had consumed her life since Dr. Corwin was attacked.

When she opened them again, she glimpsed a shadowy human form standing in the corner of the patio less than ten feet away.

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Andie gasped and whirled, confused as to how an intruder had entered the apartment and reached the terrace without making a sound. Fear drowned any further thoughts, and she rushed forward, prepared to lash out with a snap kick, when a familiar voice broke the silence.

“It’s okay, Andie. It’s me. Zawadi.”

The figure in the shadows clarified into a six-foot-tall woman with ebony skin, a tight-lipped oval mouth, cheekbones like knife cuts, and a lithe body with the grace and power of a professional athlete. Her fade haircut made her seem even taller.

Andie let her fists uncurl. “Thank God you’re alive.” Still unsure how the woman had snuck up behind her so quietly, Andie glanced through the French doors and exhaled when she saw Cal roll over in his sleep. For a moment, she had thought Zawadi might have killed him.

Except for her brown combat boots, Zawadi was dressed all in black, from her leather pants to the microfiber shirt that draped her waist. A bulge in the shirt when she moved suggested a concealed weapon.

“How did you get up here?” Andie asked. “Do you have a key?”

Zawadi ignored the question. “Are you ready to go?”

“Go where?”

“To the meeting.”

“Can you be less cryptic?”

“I’ll explain more on the way. We don’t have much time.”

“Yeah, we never seem to.”

Zawadi checked a forest-green polymer watch on her left wrist. “We’re due at midnight.”

“How far is it?”

“Not far. Quickly now. You should wake your friend.”

Though annoyed by all the secrecy, Andie was glad their mysterious protector was alive and that events were in motion. She swallowed her questions and went inside to rouse Cal. His eyes widened when he saw Zawadi. When he jumped up to embrace her, she took a step back, though her eyes were warm.

“What happened in the lagoon?” he asked. “How did you get away?”

“I went someplace they couldn’t follow. Come now, both of you. I realize you have questions, but we mustn’t delay.”

Andie and Cal had already changed back into their clothes. They had no other possessions, so after Andie grabbed the keys to the apartment and the Star Phone, they followed Zawadi down the staircase and out into the warm night.

Lanterns hung from the sides of the buildings in iron cages, illuminating the street with a soft glow. No one was in sight. The tall wooden shutters on the windows were all closed. After Zawadi glanced in both directions and scanned the rooftops, she ushered Cal and Andie into the back seat of an Alfa Romeo sedan, similar to the one Henrik had driven.

“Where are we going?” Andie asked as Zawadi pulled away from the curb.

“The Archiginnasio.”

“The what?”

“The first home of the University of Bologna. Now it’s a municipal library and museum.”

“There’s something to the libraries, isn’t there? They’re meeting grounds of some sort.”

“I’ll tell you right now I’m