The scent of sweets and the forests of Snowstrum rushed toward me. All the memories of my past had enveloped me. I could almost feel Jameson holding my hand. He smiled sweetly as he showed me the magic I held. His sweet kisses reminded me that I was alive.
“She’s not going to tell you anything, Miles,” the voice of a woman said, ripping me from my memories.
“She’s my grandmother…our grandmother. She must tell us about our family. I need to know the man I killed,” he said, his voice trembling.
“You didn’t kill him. I will take you home. I know you want answers. Sometimes, there are no answers,” the woman said.
“There are answers,” he insisted.
The Winter magic inside me began to tick. Something was calling it. Turning around, I saw her standing by my grandson. I blinked away my tears a
