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“Not exactly.” If she only knew how much I’ve lost lately. “Wishful thinking.”

“Nothing wrong with making wishes,” Daisy says with a smile.

“I guess.” From the top of the Ferris wheel, everyone looks the same. Anyone down there could be Dash.

The wheel rounds the top, and as we descend, faces come into focus again. My breath hitches as a familiar crop of artfully disheveled dark hair catches my eye. I shake my head and ignore it. Same hallucination, different city.

The guy turns toward the beach, giving me a clear view of him. All the blood rushes to my head, my heart hammering in my ears as if I’m trapped underwater. But it isn’t his hair, or his tall lanky frame, or even his black-frame glasses kicking my pulse into high gear.

It’s the royal-blue Superman shirt. I slept in that shirt!

I launch myself forward, coming off the seat and scrambling to my knees. The gondola wobbles, and all four of the Golden Girls gasp as I lean over the side and scream his name. “Dash!”

He whips around as if he heard me, but the Ferris wheel climbs into the sky again, and I lose him in the crowd. I reach for my phone to call him, then remember the dead battery.

“Damn it.” I slump back into the seat.

Rose presses a hand to her chest and catches her breath. “I was sure you were about to jump.”

“Oh, like that man in North Carolina? Such a tragedy, bless his soul.” Lilac lowers her head as if saying a quick prayer.

“Dear,” Daisy whispers. “May I ask what was so important you’d risk your life to get a peek?”

“It’s a long story.” The wheel circles back around, and I peer over the edge again. If he’s there, I can’t see him at this height.

Daisy leans forward. “Then tell it quick.”

“It all started when I met this guy in a diner outside Memphis—”

“And you saw him just now?”

I nod.

“Is he good looking?” Peony’s eyes twinkle.

“Yes.” I sigh, seeing his smile in my head. “He really is.”

“What are we waiting for?” Daisy grasps the edge of the gondola in her gnarled hands. “Let’s find him!”

The others follow suit, and four pairs of arthritic hands clasp tightly to the side of the gondola as they peer over the edge. This time, no one says a word when the gondola lists to one side under our combined weight.

“What does he look like?” Daisy asks without pulling her eyes from the pier below.

“He looks like Clark Kent just before he turns into Superman.”

“Should be easy enough to spot.” Rose releases an unladylike snort, and I’m not sure if she’s being serious or snarky.

“Oh! Is that him?” Lilac points at a guy in a Spider-Man shirt.

I laugh. “Wrong superhero.”

“There!”

I follow Daisy’s pointed finger to a dark-haired guy in a blue shirt standing near the pirate ship.

“Yes!” An overflow of endorphins has me bouncing in place. “Dash!” I scream his name again, but a gust of wind swallows the sound.

Panic sets in as I realize I may not get off this ride before he disappears into the crowd.