The morning’s been almost suspiciously normal.
After rogue wolves and fights and running and discovering my life belongs in the fantasy section of a bookshop, I find myself standing in our driveway surrounded by grocery bags. We cleaned out half the supermarket because all of us are still eating like we've been stranded at sea for six months, and judging by the amount of food currently filling the boot, we’re planning to survive an apocalypse.
The air smells like cut grass and sunshine. Birds are chirping. It feels so ordinary that part of me keeps waiting for something terrible to happen.
Maybe that's why I'm laughing so hard when Leo completely loses his dignity. All I did was tell him about how I got to watch Corrian and Jax and how it helped me sleep for 13 hours. It’s not my fau
