Milo’s sneakers slapped softly against the glassy pavement as he wandered through the empty city. Towers of silver, as tall as giants, pierced the misty sky, and broken robots dotted the sidewalks, their eyes dimmed to gray. Nobody lived here anymore. Sometimes, Milo imagined the city had fallen asleep, waiting for someone to wake it up. He zipped his jacket up to his chin, feeling small among the silent buildings. Even the wind seemed lost, weaving gently through metal and vines that crawled up the walls. Milo missed the laughter of friends and the warmth of hands to hold. His family had moved here only a week ago, and this place didn’t feel like home yet. Not even close. Then, as Milo paused to peer into a cracked shop window, he noticed something strange—a flicker of color in the middle of the empty street. He tiptoed closer. There, between two cracked tiles, grew the tiniest flower ...

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