Page 40 of Magic in the Moonlight

She generously places four biscuits in a little basket lined by a red-checkered cloth. In the middle, she adds a tiny sample jar of our honey, then she folds the cloth over to cover all of it to keep the warmth in.

Everything she does is executed with so much love, whether it’s a hug, or a fundraiser, or a basket of biscuits.

“There you go.” As she passes it to me, I loop my arm through the handle while trying not to become a sobbing mess.

I need to leave. I’ll definitely cry if I stay much longer.

“Thanks,” I manage, clearing my clogging throat.

Reaching for my mom’s hand, I take hold of it, then I place my other palm on my dad’s shoulder.

For a few seconds, I let myself soak up the moment—the last time I’ll ever be with my family.

“I just… I want you guys to know that you’re the best.” I try to fight off the rising emotion in my too-full chest. “I was thinking about how lucky I am recently, and you deserve to hear how great you are. You’ve dedicated your lives to me, and that hasn’t gone unnoticed. I appreciate all of it.”

“Oh.” Mom lays a hand over her heart like she’s touched, and my dad’s face gets all red the way it does whenever someone gives him a genuine compliment.

“Thanks, Hannah,” Dad says gruffly, a little choked up from my contagious emotional display. “But we’re the lucky ones.”

That’s what he’d said to me in the hospital before I died. He meant it then and he means it now.

Devastation flays me wide open when I think about what’s to come for them—within a month or so, they’ll find me dead in the meadow.

What’s tragic is, they were always going to lose me, no matter what. And just like during my illness, I take comfort in the fact that they still have each other.

“I’ll go get those eggs, okay?” I excuse myself. “Be right back.”

Stopping in the open doorway, I blink rapidly as I grin at them one more time.

Then I haul ass off the back porch. The flip-flops I stole from my own closet slap against my feet as I dash away. Holding back a sob, I head in the direction of my cabin. Back to Ellister.

A couple unstoppable tears fall down my cheeks on the way, but the closer to I get to Ellister, the better I feel. Once I’m near the cabins, I slow to a walk while keeping a look out for Jack or anyone else who might see me.

Thankfully, there’s no one around.

Walking by the side of my house, I see Ellister pacing anxiously through my bedroom window.

I stop and take a second to look at him. The longer hair on top of his head is a mess because he keeps raking his hand through it. He’s still shirtless, the puncture marks on his neck red and scabbing over.

As if he senses me, he halts and turns his head toward me. His eyes land on me like he could feel me watching him. Like he can tell that I’m near.

Of course he can.

Just as I can sense his presence.

I could always feel him before, but our connection is different now. Stronger. Tangible. Through the bond, I can actually calculate the feet between us with my eyes closed.

It’s amazing to me that his soul is back. That our love is more powerful than Vaeront’s magic—it’s what I wanted but was too scared to hope for.

Impatient, Ellister frantically motions for me to meet him at the back door where I slipped out before.

As soon as I’m inside the house, he’s right there to greet me with a tight hug.

I squeeze him back.

He inhales through his nose. “What’s that amazing smell?”

“Breakfast,” I reply.

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