Eastern Lights
Brittainy Cherry
Eastern Lights
By: Brittainy Cherry
Eastern Lights
Eastern Lights
Copyright © 2021 by Brittainy Cherry
All rights reserved.
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the author of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, you should return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.
Published: Brittainy C. Cherry 2021
BCherry Books, INC
brittainycherry@gmail.com
Editing: Editing by C. Marie, Jenny Sims at Editing for Indies, My Brother’s Editor
Proofreading: Virginia Tesi Carey
Cover Design: Hang Le
Photographer: Michelle Lancaster
Cover Model: Heath Hutchins
Created with Vellum
To those who are alone:
May you find a love so strong within yourself that even when you’re alone, you are far from lonely.
Contents
Quote
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Epilogue
Epilogue Two
The Compass Series
The Elements Series
Also by Brittainy C. Cherry
Acknowledgments
About the Author
A Note from the Author:
“The most terrible poverty is loneliness, and the feeling of being unloved.” -Mother Teresa
Prologue
Connor
Ten years ago
Seventeen years old
Every grand story began with a once upon a time. It didn’t even have to be a grand story. The mediocre ones began the same way, too. At least that was how mine began.
Once upon a time, a young boy was scared shitless about losing the person he cared about most.
I once had a teacher who taught me that there are two things in life a person can never prepare for, no matter how hard they try. Those two things are love and death.
I’d never been in a romantic type of love, but I knew the love between a kid and his parent. It was due to that love that I’d experienced the fear of death. It seemed as if for the past few years, I’d been swimming in a pool of sorrow that’d appeared out of nowhere. I wasn’t prepared for it at all. The past few years of my life, my search engine was filled with thoughts no kid should ever have to consider.
What happens if your only parent passes away?
What is the likelihood of a person surviving stage three cancer?
How much money do you need to make to pay for experimental treatment?
Why don’t all people get the same treatment for cancer?
Not to mention the number of jobs I tried to apply for to help my mom with the bills. I even started up a few of my own companies just to help make ends meet. Mom hated that I worked so much. I hated that she had cancer. We’d call that an even deal of hatred.
I put on a brave face for the rest of the world, being the charmer I’d always been. Everyone in my small town knew if they needed a decent laugh, a good friend, or a great worker, they could come to me. I took pride in being the hardworking class clown of sorts. Hell, I needed it, because if I wasn’t being goofy or a workaholic, I was overthinking. And if I overthought, I’d drown.
I never revealed my pain to anyone. I figured if they knew how bad I hurt, they’d worry about me. I didn’t need anyone worrying about me at all—especially my mother. She had enough on her plate as it was, and the last thing she needed was to be concerned about me being concerned about her. Still, that didn’t keep her from worrying about me. That’s what mothers do when it comes to their children, I supposed. They worry.
Our relationship was a forever loop of us checking in on one another. Mom was my partner in crime in that way—we worried about each other’s worries. Wash, rinse, repeat.
“You can come in with me,” Mom said as we waited in the lobby of the doctor’s office. “You’ve been with me through every step of this, both times, so I want you in the office with me, no matter what.”
I swallowed hard and nodded my head. Even if I didn’t want to go in, I’d never leave her alone.
I hated how the waiting area smelled, like mothballs and peppermint patty candies. Years back when Mom was first diagnosed with cancer, I’d stuff my pockets with those candies when I came with her to the doctor’s office. Now, just the smell of them made me want to heave.
We were waiting to see Dr. Bern to get the results of Mom’s last round of testing to see if the chemotherapy had worked, or if the cancer had spread throughout her body. Needless to say, my stress level was through the roof.
“Mrs. Roe? You can come back now,” a nurse said, smiling toward us. Even though my mom had divorced my lowlife father years before, she’d held on to his last name. I’d told her to change it, but she told me she had received the best thing from having that last name—me.
