Graham - All the Stars Left Behind

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Copyright 2017 by Ashley Graham. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

Entangled Publishing, LLC

2614 South Timberline Road

Suite 109

Fort Collins, CO 80525

Entangled Teen is an imprint of Entangled Publishing, LLC.

Visit our website at www.entangledpublishing.com .

Edited by Stephen Morgan

Cover design by Fiona Jayde

Interior design by Toni Kerr

ISBN 9781633756830

Ebook ISBN 9781633756847

Manufactured in the United States of America

First Edition June 2017

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

For Poppa, who taught me to reach for the stars,
and Nana, who showed me the path to get there.

Chapter One

Every time she blinked, Leda Lindgren saw blood. Blood in vials. On hospital sheets. Crusted around IV sites. Blue vein rivers on pale, paper-thin skin.

Two weeks had passed since Dad died. Fourteen days. Three hundred and thirty-six hours. Over a million seconds without him. She felt his loss like a physical pain so deep it would never fade. And Mom? She just erased him, painted over his little corner of the universe in slow, deliberate brushstrokes. But Leda remembered. She held on to every memory, every picture, every piece of him.

Mom wanted the move to Norway to be a fresh start. But it wouldnt couldnt be that. There would be new friends. New places. But some things couldnt be left behind.

S he stood outside her new home beside Nils, a scarecrow of a boy, all mismatched parts stuck together with a mop of white-blond hair hanging in his eyes. He was her distant cousin or something. Actually, her uncle hadnt really explained how they were related, just that he hoped theyd get along. Leda had avoided him until ten minutes ago, when he walked up and without a word stood with her and stared up at the gray house while biting, Arctic wind burst down the street, filling the space between her palms and the crutch hand grips. The galaxy pendant felt warm against her chesta gift from Dad the day before he died.

Wear it always, hed said. When you least expect it, youll need it. Though she didnt know what he meant by that, shed slipped the silver chain around her neck right there in front of him and hadnt taken it off since.

Leda blinked away tears. Best to avoid the giant black hole of grief and pretend everything is all right . Her breath came out in a shaky sigh. This sucks.

Its not so bad. Nils motioned to the harbor between her house and her uncles shop. The views kind of pretty.

Yeah, if you dont mind the lack of trees and sub-zero temperatures in the middle of summer. Or living in a boring gray house. Everyone else in this freezing cold suck-fest known as Vard chose bright colors for their houses. Maybe they thought sunny yellow or vibrant red made living in the Arctic Circle less crappy. None of the other houses were the same dull gray shade as the surrounding skies.

Could be worse.

How so?

A smile transformed his features, and suddenly, all his mismatched pieces fit together. Nils should always smile, she thought. You could be stuck living on the islands with all the birds and no people.

I can deal with no people. A slow internet connection is another story.

We get a fairly decent connection here. Perks of living at the top of the world. And hey, you speak Norwegian like you grew up here.

My parents were born in Norway, and Dad spoke Norwegian to me at home all the time. When I complained about it, hed say, Understanding your roots gives you a tangible connection to where you came from, and learning the language is a powerful tool to start with.

And it paid off. He paused, his smile fading to a contemplative look. Did you sprain your ankle or something?

There it was. The first of many innocent yet annoying observations about her crutches. Just once she wanted people to see her and not her disability.

This is why I hate meeting new people.

I have Spina Bifida with an L5 lesion.

L5? His brow creased.

Yeah, the letters and numbers tell you what part of the spine is affected. L means lumbar, and 5 is the section. I cant feel much of anything in the muscles down my legs, and in my ankles and toes. Makes walking kind of a challenge. Thats where these come in. She lifted one crutch. I mean, I can walk without them, but Id rather not take the risk of falling.

For a moment, Nils remained silent with that curious stare most people wore when she spoke about her condition. Then he bobbed his head. Im starving. You hungry?

Leda opened her mouth to answer when Uncle Arne Johan Fredrik Srensen who thankfully just went by Arnepoked his head through an upstairs window. A shock of red hair and a thick beard against milky-white skin with a brow the size of the entire Asian continent. Including Russia. He reminded her of a wild mountain man who hadnt seen civilization for decades. Except he owned an electric razor. She saw him using the trimmer attachment on his nose hairs earlier. Some people lacked a filter while others were clueless in the privacy department.

Hello, Nils! I see you met my niece, he shouted in Norwegian, stroking his bushy beard. His voice carried between houses in a Shakespearian-actor-on-stage kind of way. Are you just going to stand out there all day, Leda?

Is there anything else to do here?

Arnes deep belly laughter ricocheted off the buildings and carried down the narrow street. Theres plenty to do! I offered to take you to Hornya to see the birds.

Birds arent really my thing.

Nils hid his laughter with a cough.

Ja, well, you could always join me in my shop.

Instantly, she perked up. Uncle Arne created one-of-a-kind pieces of art with wood. Some were small enough to fit in the palm of your hand, while others required months of painstaking work and attention to detail. Leda had seen a couple other pieces on his website (shed been utterly shocked that they had internet up here) and had to admit, he had some mad skills.

I could use some help today, Uncle Arne said. His smile sent warm flutters around her heart. You, too, Nils. His gaze drifted away from Leda and he waved.

Leda turned and saw an old man behind her. Coarse, unruly gray hair framed his age-ravaged face. But his eyes were clear and bright, almost mischievous. Like the trolls in the fairy-tale books Dad used to read to her. The man looked directly at Leda, his focus intense. A slow grin stretched the wrinkled map around his mouth as he blinked. What the? Two sets of eyelids flickered, one after the other.

Leda stumbled back into Nils.

Whoa, you okay? His hands closed around her shoulders.

She rubbed her eyes, then stared at the old man again. He said not a word, just went on his way down the street. Whistling a tune and swinging his arms at his sides. She could almost believe shed imagined the eyelid thing, except his legsthey bent the wrong way when he stepped.

No. She shook her head and straightened up, moving away from Nils. Its all in your mind. Youre exhausted. Thats all.

Uncle Arne called from the window, Are you all right down there?

Fine! Not even close. Were going to grab something to eat, then well meet you in your shop.

Nils clapped his hands together and rubbed them. I wonder if your grandmother has any of that Scottish shortbread left.

Right. Shortbread. Not those eyes. Not those backward legs.