Finn was bent over the industrial-sized sink in the hotel's kitchen where Summer was crouched in the soapy water, washing her hair. They'd collected the water from the rain that had fallen the day before and then heated it on the gas stove. It was a rare treat – they'd only been able to bathe three or four times a year since it had first happened, and none of them had had a hot bath since before then. It was also a rare treat for them to have soap – Summer had discovered a supply closet on the hotel's second floor that was stocked full of miniature bottles of shampoo and body wash, and now there was a heap of them on the counter beside the sink.

Daddy? Summer said as Finn lathered the shampoo into her hair.

What?

How long are we going to live?

I don't know. For a while, though. A long while.

How do you know?

I just do.

That doesn't make any sense. Ow!

You have to keep your eyes closed.

It tastes gross.

Keep your mouth closed too. It's not food.

Using a metal mixing bowl, Finn poured water over Summer's head until the soap was out of her hair, then had her stand up so that he could rinse her off completely. He lifted her out of sink and wrapped her tightly in one of the blankets they'd taken from the hotel rooms. Her teeth chattered. You okay? he asked. She nodded shakily.

Okay, good. Finish drying off and then get dressed.

He gave her nose a tweak and then stripped his shirt off, revealing stretched waxy skin that was grey with the buildup of dirt, ash, and bodily oils, a sickly shade that was made worse by the years of malnutrition. The color of his skin looked even more unhealthy when paired with the contours of his jutting hips, ribs, vertebrae, shoulder blades, and clavicles. His chest was so sunken that each bump on his breastbone was visible through the thin layer of flesh, and the tendons constantly stood out on his neck. His arms were so thin at this point that he could easily wrap his hand around his bicep and touch his forefinger to his thumb.

He splashed water across his torso, scrubbing the dirt out of his pores as well as he could with his palms. The water had cooled down considerably by this point, and he began to shake with the cold before long. The slight movement made his lungs hitch in his chest and he turned his head to cough off to the side.

Noah woke with a start in the middle of the night, and for a moment forgot where he was. It was pitch black in the hotel lobby, and the only sounds were Finn's light snores from the other couch and the faint sound of a breeze outside. Noah sighed and pulled the blankets tighter around his shoulders, closing his eyes and willing his body to go back to sleep.

Noah? came a small voice from across the room. Are you awake?

Yeah. What is it, Summer?

There was a rustling as Summer climbed off the couch she was sharing with Finn and came to stand next to Noah. Daddy doesn't sound right, she said.

What do you mean?

He's breathing funny.

Noah frowned, staring at the faint silhouette of the small girl in the dark. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and grabbed his crutches from where they leaned against the couch arm, heaving himself up onto them and then swaying in place for a moment until he was sure he had his balance. He hobbled behind Summer to Finn's couch and stood over him for a moment, listening.

Summer was right. It was difficult to hear at first, but Finn's lungs were definitely straining to open all the way. His breath was hissing in his throat slightly, hitching every few minutes. Finn coughed and rolled over, oblivious to his companions' concerns.

Is he okay? Summer whispered.

I'm sure it's just a cold.

Summer said nothing.

Are you hungry?

No.

Okay, you should probably go back to sleep.

Can I sleep with you?

Sure.

Only a few hours later, Summer shook Noah's shoulder. Noah! Noah! Wake up! she whispered.

He groaned and kept his eyes closed. What, Summer?

There's something outside.

At that, Noah's eyes snapped open, and his heart jumped as he realized that it was no longer pitch black in the lobby, despite the fact that his body was telling him that it was still the middle of the night. There were shafts of milky white light coming in through the dusty glass doors, spilling across the floor and illuminating the dark shapes of furniture.

What is that? Summer hissed. Noah said nothing, his eyes wide in the dim light. He reached again for his crutches and pulled himself up, limping quickly towards the door.

Noah! Summer whimpered, hesitating before trotting after him. She peered out from behind him, warily staring at the street outside as it was glowing softly in the light.

He shoved the door open with his shoulder, hobbling outside and looking upwards. The breath left his lungs in a single whoosh.

What is that? Summer asked again, staring up at the sky with him and clutching his arm in apprehension.

Noah's face broke into a smile. It's the moon, he said.

Miles overhead, the upper atmosphere winds had finally cut a hole through the thick ash cloud and revealed a small patch of clear, unpolluted sky. The moon was almost full, and several stars winked behind it.

Only a few seconds later, the ash and smog covered up the hole, and they were once again thrown into darkness.

Why does it glow like that? Summer asked in awe, her voice floating in the shadows.

I'm not sure.

I saw a face.

Me too.

Was that always there?

The moon or the face?

Both.

As far as I know, yeah.

So it was always light?

Yeah, sort of.

I wish there was more light now. I hate the dark.

Me too.

Summer shivered next to him. Can we go back inside now?

Yeah. Come on.

Noah didn't sleep for the rest of the night, sitting stiffly on the couch with Summer until the ashen morning sunlight began to shine through the front doors and slowly but surely illuminate the room. Summer was in a deep sleep on the cushions next to him and didn't show signs of waking any time soon. Finn woke just after dawn, shaken awake by a violent coughing fit.

Are you okay? Noah asked.

Finn sat up but didn't answer for several seconds as he hacked into the crook of his elbow, his face turning red. Yeah, he wheezed eventually. I'm fine. He sniffed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

Uh, Finn?

What?

Noah gestured to the corner of his mouth. You might want to clean that off.

Finn swallowed and hastily wiped the droplets of blood off his cheek, then stood up and stretched, glancing out the front doors. I gotta take a piss, he said. I'll be right back.