Blinking, I try to compose myself.
I don’t even know what I’m going to tell them about college. Obviously, I’m not going anymore. I have every intention of going back to Valora with Kirian.
Standing, I decide to leave my extra clothes here. If—no, when Kirian comes back, he’ll find them and know I was here. They’ll be my breadcrumbs.
Glancing back at the empty field, I hesitate, willing my fae king to appear. But he doesn’t.
I know how this goes—Kirian gets one portal a year. That’s it, and that’s all. Knowing he has to wait so long to see me makes me physically ache for him.
Jogging away from our usual meeting spot, I tell myself he found a way out of the Shadowlands. He’s probably back in Delaveria scaring the crap out of people with his grumpiness.
And he’ll come for me tomorrow when he can.
I take a detour on the way to my house. The treehouse sits about fifteen feet up in an old oak. Splinters stick out of the weathered rungs of the wooden ladder, but I know where to put my hands to avoid them.
When I make it up to the trap door, I pop my head through the hole in the floor. Since the shutters are closed, it’s dim, but sunlight beams through the cracks between the wood slats. A little light is a thousand times better than zero after being in the Shadowlands. I suppress a shiver when I think about the endless darkness.
I zero in on what I’m looking for. I keep a change of clothes in here for when I get wet while fishing.
And right now, I’m practically dripping with sweat.
Plus, showing up at my house wearing a Night Realm getup would definitely raise questions. With the high-waisted pants and puffy white shirt, I kind of look like I just stepped off a pirate ship from the 1800s.
Pulling out the drawer of a small dresser, I find some jean shorts and a ratty purple T-shirt I got from a fundraiser at my high school.
After I’m changed, I lay the damp clothes on top of a toy chest full of blankets. It hurts to see a corner of the blue flannel comforter sticking out. Kirian and I used it in the cold months. Although he didn’t need it, sometimes he’d lend his body heat, huddling under there with me while I read him my latest find at the library.
A few stacks of our favorite books sit on a small bookshelf, along with some candles and a bucket of interesting rocks we found in the creek. My fishing pole is propped up in the corner.
Every square inch of this place is saturated with memories of Kirian.
Gah, I’m going to start crying again.
Sighing out a shuddering breath, I climb down and make the trek back to my house.
As I approach the yellow farmhouse, a wave of nostalgia hits me. I thought I wouldn’t see this place again for a while. And when my mom waves at me from the porch, I realize how much I missed her.
She’s wearing her usual sunflower apron over a T-shirt and jeans, and her gray hair is pulled back into a ponytail with a scrunchie.
My walk turns into a run, and my shoes pound up the wooden steps before I throw my arms around her.
“Oh.” She laughs, taken aback. “What’s this for?”
“I just need a hug.” My voice waivers.
Rubbing my back, she chuckles. “Getting a little homesick already?”
“Something like that.”
I don’t let go for at least thirty seconds. One thing I’ve always loved about my mom is how soft she is. I guess you could say she’s on the plump side, but it just makes her extra good at cuddles.
When I finally pull back, her eyes go to my hair and she touches the ends. “You got a haircut.”
Oh, yeah. Forgot about that.
“Uh huh,” I say, not offering any information about where I got it done.
“It looks nice,” Dad chimes in from inside the screen door. “A new style for our college girl.”
“The spaghetti and meatballs are ready.” Mom unties her apron. “You hungry?”
“Starving.” I don’t know what was in that ginger tea, but it made my appetite come back with a vengeance.
Kicking off my shoes, I stroll past the living room on the right. The dark blue couch is the same shade as the night realm flag, and it hurts my heart a little to look at it.
Going to the farmhouse-style sink in the kitchen, I wash the dirt from under my fingernails as I gaze out the window. I search the woods for a hint of movement, a flash of clothing or skin.
But it’s just tall trees, green leaves, and birds.
After drying my hands, I take a left into the dining room, and the smell of dinner makes my mouth water. The plates are already on the table, complete with a bottle of root beer at each place setting.
I smile when I remember the first time I made Kirian try the carbonated beverage. He’d sneezed, then hiccupped for fifteen minutes. Didn’t stop him from drinking more, though.
I sprinkle parmesan cheese on my pasta before digging in.
After I’ve had a few bites, Mom speaks up, “So, you’ve got some packing to do tonight. You’ve procrastinated long enough.”
“About that.” I set my fork down. “I’ve been doing some thinking. I know this is last minute, but I’ve had a change of heart about school. I’d like to take some time off. I’d learn more by traveling and working.”
It’s easy to sound convincing because it’s the truth. These past several days in Valora were more educational than all my years of being buried in textbooks.
Mom and Dad share a glance, and I’m afraid they’re going to argue with me.
But my dad nods slowly as he scratches his white hair. “I suspected this.”
“You did?” I’m surprised. “You’re not mad?”
Adjusting his wire-rimmed glasses, he chuckles. “I don’t know if you realize it, but you
