The heavy aroma of brewing coffee began to fill the kitchen, and I saw Kirsten take in a deep breath, not quite shutting her eyes. “No, it’s not,” she said frankly. “I can’t blame you for wanting to latch on to Logan. We all seek out our own kind, even if we’re not aware that we’re doing it at the time. I mean, the first time I saw Martin — ”
“Did you just know?” This was something I’d wanted to ask for years but never really had the opportunity. Maybe it was something she’d shared with her own daughter. But I wasn’t her daughter. Even so, most of the time, I felt as if I was far more closely connected to my Aunt Kirsten than I was to my own mother. Yes, my mother had had her own share of struggles, but not the kind I was attempting to deal with now.
“I did. That is, I felt a pull toward
