Page 69 of Always Be an Us

"Told you." Emma stands beside me with her hands tucked at her back looking truly pleased with herself. "And you got lucky too. Usually, you won’t find them this far out."

"I certainly feel lucky," I comment.

The moment feels surreal. I can't believe these things actually exist.

Now, I see what all the hype about this damn Pink Pearl is about. If it looks anything like this, then it just might be worth the trouble.

"It's supposed to have magical properties too," Emma continues. "Although I know you probably don't believe in magic."

"I used to," I inform her and watch her eyes flare open in disbelief. Then she narrows her eyes as if she might be on the receiving end of some mockery.

"You’re kidding."

"I’m not," I smile. "In fact, I used to be the biggest proponent of magic. I watched a lot of David Blaine and Chris Angel when I was like ten. So much that for my eleventh birthday I tried to convince my dad to let me put on a magic show for everyone. I had a plan and even went on the internet looking for an assistant."

"And then what happened?" Emma asks, leaning forward on her good leg.

"Nothing," I say. "My father thought I was too old for such things and refused to organize the party no matter how many tantrums I threw."

"Oh no," she says and holds her hand over her mouth, her eyes gleaming with pity as though I just confessed some heinous abuse.

I smirk. "It’s not so bad. And he was right anyway. I was too old for such games."

"No, you weren't. You were ten. That’s plenty of time to still believe in magic."

"Ok, wasn't. But I wasn’t just ten, I was also the sole heir to my dad's conglomerate which meant a lot of eyes were on me. Even at that age."

That scrutiny drove me crazy for most of my teen years, and I rebelled well into adulthood until I ran into the thing that knocked it out of me

My mother.

"I see," Emma responds sagely.

I raise an eyebrow. "See what?"

"I see what happened now." She nods. "Why you're the way you are. Your father destroyed your sense of adventure at a young age and now you think it's the right thing to do. That's why you're trying to do the same to Amelia."

"That's not what I'm doing with Amelia."

"Isn't it?" She cocks her head in challenge, and I sigh.

"At least not intentionally," I admit grudgingly, and she smiles softly.

"I know you’re not doing it intentionally. You’re only trying to keep her safe. But sometimes that safety can be–"

"Stifling, I know," I say. "I already talked with Amelia and I’m going to try to be better. Ease up a little."

"Really?"

"Yeah. That's why I hired you, isn't it? So you can preserve her 'sense of adventure.'"

Emma appears surprised at first, and then her face splits with a wide grin like I just gave her the best compliment she can imagine. "Consider it done."

I shake my head and then stare at the temperamental sky. It was sunny just a few minutes ago, but it's rapidly darkening again. "It might rain again soon. Let's go back in for now. We'll try for cell service later."

We spend most of the morning in the cabin, where we sit by the fireplace and talk, watching the rain. It's not as heavy as last night, with not nearly as much wind, but it's still cold enough that we huddle together for body heat, this time with our clothes on.

And we talk. Emma asks incessant questions about the magic shows I used to love watching. And even though I try to give short answers, I eventually find myself detailing some of the magic tricks I perfected for my friends.

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