Hillary
Home.
I used to think home was like a house where your mom and dad and immediate family lived. I don’t think so anymore. I think home is wherever you want it to be. Wherever you have gotten so used to and comfortable in. And there can be more than one home. Home is not a building; sometimes it’s not even the people—it’s just you.
I fidget with the Cartier bracelet set around my wrist. The one Ben got me. I don’t know why I can’t stop worrying about him. He is not a baby; he is a full-grown adult that knows how to handle himself. Plus, it’s only been like seven days. But I can’t help but worry. Isabel traveled for the holidays too, which means Ben’s all alone. He doesn’t have any friends—well, I doubt that Charlie or Julian would offer to spend their holidays with Ben—which mean
