Page 36 of Train Wreck

Chapter Nineteen

My vision blurred,and I blinked. I was no longer in the dressing room with my sisters. I no longer held the card clenched in my hand. I was in a meadow filled with yellow flowers.

Standing in front of me was my baby sister, Talia.

Only she wasn’t young like she’d been when she died. She looked grownup. She looked our age.

“Honor.” Talia said my name, and tears filled my eyes.

“This isn’t real, but God, I want it to be,” I whispered.

“It is real. I’ve been watching you and the others grow. I’ve been with you the entire time.”

A tear slipped down my cheek, and my heart raced.

“How?”

“It doesn’t matter. What matters is that I love you guys and miss you so very much, but I’m where I need to be.”

“Talia.”

She wiped her thumb across my face, banishing my tear. “You’re going to be okay. You know that, right?”

“Sure,” I answered, and within seconds, Teddy appeared next to her.

I didn’t pretend I was strong enough to stand. I fell to my knees.

“Oh, Lizzie Lou,” he said, his face softening. “I’m sorry for everything I’ve done and the pain I’ve caused you.”

“Teddy?” I swallowed hard.

“Hugh is the man for you. He always has been. I was selfish to keep you to myself, knowing the truth, but I loved you, Lizzie. I will always love you. It’s time for you to let go and live.”

I swallowed around the lump in my throat, unable to speak.

“He’s right, Honor. Your destiny awaits, and I can’t wait to have a front-row seat to the fireworks,” Talia said, leaning into me and pulling me tight. She whispered into my ear. “I have it on good authority that he actually is your Mr. Right.”

My eyes shot open, and I found each of my sisters holding out a tissue in my direction.

I dabbed at my tears, trying to salvage my makeup as the others did the same.

“How…”

They shrugged.

“It doesn’t matter how. It only matters that it happened,” Faith said through her teary-eyed smile.

The wedding went off without a hitch. My sister was a married woman, and I had a feeling it wouldn’t be long before the others joined that club.

I was seated next to Clara, watching the others on the dance floor.

“So, how did you do it?”

“Does it matter?” she asked.

“It’s the emblem with intention,” Fillpot announced, sitting down on the other side of her. “It’s one of her many tricks.”

Clara sipped her champagne, not denying or agreeing.

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