A year later.
I ran through the back hills near Fallen Crest, feeling the burn in my legs. I loved it, just like I always had, and I picked up my pace.
So much had happened over the last year.
Mason graduated and was drafted to the New England Patriots. His first year with them had been good, and he was happy to start a second, but he’d been restless. Logan and I had remained in California to finish school while he went to Massachusetts, and I knew it hurt. He was clear across the nation. The winter was hard, but every free moment we had, Logan and I flew out to see him. Then when it was off-season for him, he came back to live with us. But all that was done now.
Logan and I graduated last week.
I got a degree in health and wellness—yes, I’d finally picked a major. Logan was on to law
