Chapters (34)
- COVER
- DEDICATION
- PART ONE
- CHAPTER ONE
- CHAPTER TWO
- CHAPTER THREE
- CHAPTER FOUR
- PART TWO
- CHAPTER FIVE
- CHAPTER SIX
- CHAPTER SEVEN
- CHAPTER EIGHT
- PART THREE
- CHAPTER NINE
- CHAPTER TEN
- CHAPTER ELEVEN
- PART FOUR
- CHAPTER TWELVE
- CHAPTER THIRTEEN
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- DISCOVER MORE
- READING GUIDE
- PERILLIAN CORNER SORTING MATRIX
- THE FOUR CORNERS
- PERSONALITY PROFILE WORKSHEET
- THE PASSION EMPRESS
- THE WARRIOR EMPRESS
- THE ENTHUSED EMPRESS
- THE WISE EMPRESS
- PERSONALITY PROFILE WORKSHEET
- THE CRUSADER EMPEROR
- THE SCHOLAR EMPEROR
- THE CATALYST EMPEROR
- THE COUNCIL EMPEROR
“Well, I was about to tell you both to stop projecting, but it sounds like I don’t need to,” Cleo adds. “The enemy isn’t in this room, that’s for sure. And honestly, I changed my mind. I think Chase has a point.”
Cleo places a hand on Amelia’s shoulder. “We can’t quit now, not when we’ve come this far. So let’s just pack up and get the hell out of here.”
Without thinking, I stand up and hug Cleo. Coming from them, this means the world. Amelia then stands and hugs me, too. We both know we just got caught in the crossfire because we’re the ones here, the ones who showed up, the ones who stayed. I know we took it out on each other because we love each other, not the other way around.
Still, our hug feels a little stiff. Maybe because I don’t think what either Amelia or I said was completely wrong? I don’t know what that means for us moving forward, but moving forward is all I can think to do right now. So once Amelia releases me, I run up to my room.
I begin to pack on autopilot, my mind still numbed and racing at the same time. Thoughts populate themselves, sprouting like weeds as my hands move. Until I touch something that finally stops me cold in my tracks. I don’t know how I didn’t find it earlier, but there it is, tucked in a side pocket of my duffel bag…
Logan’s fidget spinner. His externalized mantra, the piece of him he carries with him everywhere he goes—until now. He must have put it in my bag before he left.
It’s only one small thing, the spinner I now hold in my hand, but it contains a multitude of meanings. Just like that first day in Maggie’s shop, I feel overwhelmed by the emotional weight of the object. Finding this token of Logan might be a single crack, but it’s enough to shatter me.
I cry then, for the first time since Logan left.
I don’t stop until I am emptied of everything that had been brimming over. It aches through my body, but when it’s done, when my eyes sting and my throat feels raw, I realize that’s the thing about being empty. Something in me may have just died…
But maybe that just means I’m due for a rebirth?