Noah picked up the Space Drawing. He ran his thumb over the wobbly black lines where Katy had drawn the stars.
"I promised her," Noah said, his voice gaining strength. "In the book... in the story... I promised I would take Mr. Whiskers to the moon. Or at least, around the world."
"That's a big trip," Dr. Catwell noted.
"She wanted to be an astronaut," Noah said, looking at the Red Rock. "She brought me Mars because she couldn't go. But I'm still here. I can still go."
He looked at Dr. Catwell. "My wife... she left, didn't she? That wasn't a metaphor."
"She couldn't handle the loss," Catwell said softly. "Everyone grieves differently. She ran away. You... you went inside."
"The Rainy Docks," Noah nodded. "That was her leaving. The cold. The rain that never stopped."
He picked up the Wedding Ring. He slid it onto his pinky finger. It didn't fit his ring finger anymore; he had lost too much weight.
"I can't stay here," Noah said. "I can't stay in Catsopolis. And I can't stay in this hospital."
"You're voluntary now, Noah," Catwell said. "You've completed the cycle. You found the anchors. You know your name. You know your history. You are free to go whenever you are ready."
Noah looked at the pile of junk on the desk. It wasn't junk. It was fuel.
He picked up Mr. Whiskers. The stuffed cat looked back at him with its one button eye. It looked ready for an adventure.
"I have a promise to keep," Noah said.