Chapter Thirty-Five
The celebration happens the way the best things do—almost by accident.
It’s December again.
The city has learned how to glow. Lights hang from balconies and streetlamps like promises someone intends to keep. The air smells like cinnamon and cold, and everywhere you turn there’s the quiet insistence that something good is allowed to happen.
I’m not expecting anything.
That’s important.
I’m wearing a sweater I love for no reason other than it’s soft. We’re meeting friends at the town square for the annual tree lighting—something we’ve done before, but never like this. Never with this kind of ease.
Noah walks beside me, gloved hand warm around mine. We move through the crowd slowly, stopping to greet people, laughter spilling easily.
“Remember when this place terri
