I took out the stationery, the letter Jember had been working on still on top. A grin slipped to my lips. “I have to read this.” I waved Magnus to sit beside me. “I know you never liked Jember, but do me a favor and don’t interject with insults.”

“I wouldn’t do that to you.” He gave me a sheepish grin when I raised my eyebrows. “I’m grateful for his sacrifice. I don’t know what I would’ve done if…”

I pressed my thumb to his brow to smooth the furrows there. “Don’t think of it, Magnus. We don’t have to anymore.”

He shifted behind me, hugging me close. “Distract me, my darling. I promise I won’t interrupt.”

I was suddenly aware of my father’s familiar handwriting in front of me, and I cleared my throat a few times to get rid of a tickle.

Saba, I don’t know why you still love me. I am the reason you’re dead.

His words chilled me, and I had to take a few deep breaths to soothe myself.

I was afraid choosing a job solely for money would attract the Evil Eye. It was a cowardly decision, and we’ve both suffered greatly for it. Apologies are not enough.

There were a few sentences crossed out—petty words of frustration, felt in the heat of the moment, that I knew he didn’t mean—so I left those out as I continued, “‘The debtera you hired is my—’” I choked on a sob. “‘My daughter.’”

For a moment I couldn’t go on. Magnus held me closer, but it didn’t stop tears from stinging the backs of my eyes.

She’s brilliant, you’re in capable hands. But she’s all I have in this world, so send her back in one piece, will you?

“Send her back, my ass,” Magnus grumbled into my hair, holding me closer. “I’m keeping her.”

I burst into laughter. “Magnus!”

“Sorry, you’re right, I promised. No more interruptions.”

As much as I owe you your last request, I don’t know how to love in a way that isn’t led by fear. If that’s confusing, ask Andi and I’m sure she’ll explain how I break her heart on a daily basis.

“I forgive you,” I said to the letter, as if Jember could hear me through it, then went on.

Please don’t contact me again. Andi will lay your soul to rest soon, and you’ll forget all about me. But I don’t think I could bear losing you twice in one lifetime.

I flipped the page over, and over again, but there was nothing left but crossed-off words and absentminded amulet strokes.