[Elijah]
Hazel had left nearly thirty minutes before me. Something about an urgent call from another aunt—Wanda, I think? Honestly, I didn’t catch the full details. I just nodded while half-listening, too absorbed in adjusting the stupid cufflinks on this equally stupid tuxedo. She vanished quickly, all brisk heels and soft perfume, and I stayed behind, dragging my feet through the rituals of getting ready for a gala I didn’t even want to attend.
Christmas. God, what a joke.
Once upon a time, it had been my favorite season—back when I was small enough to still believe in magic, and before I was old enough to understand what abandonment really looked like. Before my parents decided their wanderlust was more sacred than their own child. They dropped me at my grandparents’ house when I was
