September 17, 2017
Giving the place I’d called home for the last six years one last look, I climbed behind the driver seat of the rental truck. I pulled up Kelton and swung a right onto Commonwealth Avenue, well on the way to the next chapter of my life. One where J.T. waited for me at night—or at least on the days he wasn’t pulling double shifts.
“I’m proud of you,” Dad said from the passenger seat.
I glanced at him as I eased to a stop at a red light. I’d spent a good part of the last decade hating the man beside me. Mostly because of not understanding what he’d lost and sacrificed the night my mother died. Being forced to save the world and rejoin the magical community had changed my perspective and we were in a better place. One that involved him helping pack up boxes right beside m
