The next afternoon, Jacob and I sat on our back porch. A porch swing was attached to the eve of the roof with blue and silver cushions. I swung my feet back and forth, feeling like a kid as Jacob controlled the momentum of the swing. The three remaining letters from Isaac sat between us. We had meant to read them, but for right now, we were just sitting and enjoying the oddly warm afternoon. Buster laid underneath the swing, snoring loudly.
“What happened in the last letter?” Jacob asked.
I pursed my lips, trying to remember. “Jason kissed Isaac, I believe.”
I looked over, and Jacob nodded. “Ah. Right. What happens next?”
I laughed. “You were there, Jacob. Didn’t your brother tell you?”
The prince shrugged. “Of course.” He looked down at his feet. “After his de
