Page 77 of Enemies to What
Another, and I sigh.
When she reaches me, I place a new mark beside the others.
And my kit, so perfect,lets me.
Epilogue… But Different
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Hello, and welcome to my blatant teaser to get you to read book two. I hope you like it.
Wolfe
My brother is kissing his fiancée. Again. Do they know that hickeys are gross above the age of sixteen? Do they know that they were grossatthe age of sixteen?
Adjusting my sleeping daughter in my arms, being careful not to wrinkle the letter I hold between two fingers as I do so, I make my way through the celebrating crowd to get my girl upstairs. How she can sleep through this ruckus, I don’t know, and I’ve pondered the matter enough times to figure that I never will. Some things are just meant to be mysteries.
I eye my ivy-green envelope.
And some things, I’ve learned recently, are not.
Somethings, you have to face head-on, even when they’re scary or uncomfortable or nerve-wracking.
Like when your brother is clearly struggling for years and you aren’t talking to him about it, even though you really should.
Or when your daughter asks about her momagain, and you have no explanations for why she’s not around because you don’t have a clue yourself, even though youreallyshould.
Or when you get your one-hundred and third letter from the pen pal you’re in love with and you wonder if maybe she could be in love with you, too. And you want to find out. Even though you really, probably, maybe, most definitely… should not.
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