The Observatory was the highest point in Catsopolis. It was a bubble of glass floating in the void, detached from the noise and the chaos below.
Inside, there was a massive telescope pointing out at the fake universe. The walls were covered in charts of constellations that formed the shapes of yarn balls and mice.
But Noah wasn't looking at the stars. He was looking at a display case in the center of the room.
It was labeled: THE PLANET MARS (SCALE MODEL).
Inside the case was a rock.
It was jagged, about the size of a fist. It was painted a bright, chaotic red—acrylic paint, thick and gloopy, with brush strokes clearly visible. In some spots, the grey of the original driveway gravel showed through.
Noah approached the glass. His reflection was ghost-like against the black sky outside.
"The Red Rock," he whispered.
Mittens jumped up onto the display case. "It's just a rock, Noah. Someone painted it."
"I know," Noah said. "She painted it."
He smashed the glass with his elbow. The sound was shockingly loud in the quiet dome. He reached in and picked up the rock. The paint was rough against his skin.
ZAP.
It was a Saturday. Before the diagnosis. Before the grey days.
Katy ran into the kitchen, her hands covered in red paint. She was holding a rock she had dug up from the driveway.
"Daddy! Close your eyes!"
"Okay, okay, eyes closed."
"Open!"
She shoved the wet rock into his hands. He laughed, trying not to get red paint on his shirt.
"What is this? A strawberry? A heart?"
"No, silly! It's Mars!"
She pointed to the drawing of the solar system on the fridge.
"You said you wanted to go to Mars, but it's too far. So I brought Mars to you!"
Noah looked at the messy, beautiful rock. He looked at his daughter's beaming face.
"You brought me a whole planet?" he asked, awestruck.
"Yep. Now you don't have to go away in a rocket. You can stay here with me."
ZAP.
Noah held the rock to his forehead. The cold stone felt like a kiss.
"She didn't want to go to space," Noah wept, the realization hitting him like a physical blow. "She wanted me to stay. She was afraid I would leave her."
"And did you?" Mittens asked softly.
"No," Noah said. "I stayed. Every second. Until the end."
He put the rock in his pocket. It clinked against the Music Box.
"That's it," Noah said. "I have them all. The Ring. The Bow. The Ark. The Sleeper. The Drawing. The Portrait. Mr. Whiskers. The Duck. The Book. The Music Box. The Rock."
He looked around the Observatory. The illusion was thinning. The stars outside were starting to flicker like dying lightbulbs.
"I have the collection," Noah announced to the empty room. "I win the game. Now where is my prize?"