“What now?” I asked Penelope in a whisper.
She squeezed my hand and smiled just a little. “You’ll see.”
The bright blinding light began to split the sky.
I looked at Tyler one last time, and for a split second, I saw his finger twitch just before the six of us crossed over.
Linda pulled into her snow-covered driveway at dusk, the brakes on the Wagoneer screeched as she parked it near the porch. She made a mental note to take the Wagoneer in to be serviced, though she knew she would probably forget. The sun was setting, and like she did every single day, she looked up to the sky thankful that her daughter lived another day. She was excited to surprise Swayzi with her early return from Anchorage in time to celebrate her eighteenth birthday and to hear all about the dance. She got out of the car, grabbed her bags in one hand and a handful of birthday balloons in the other. She used her hip to shut the car door and popped one of the balloons in the process. Her heart jumped, and birds flew from the trees at the jarring sound.
She walked to the porch and thought it unusual there were no footprints or tire marks in the fresh snow. The house was quiet. Fresh wood was stacked by the fireplace and nothing seemed out of place. But she could tell something was wrong. Linda dropped her bags, and the balloons floated to the ceiling when she ran up the stairs afraid she might find her daughter unconscious…or worse.
Swayzi’s bed was perfectly made, and the pillows strategically placed. Her clothes were folded in the hamper, and the pictures that always hung on from the string of lights were still there. Everything was just as it should be, almost too perfect. Her heart was beating loud enough that it echoed in the eerily empty house.
Linda made for the kitchen, ready to call Tyler’s house to scold him for keeping Swayzi out all night, but she stopped when she saw fresh flowers in her mother’s tea pot on the kitchen table, and next to it a simple white note:
Dear Linda Mom,
I hope that one day you will forgive me for not saying goodbye in person, but I couldn’t risk you not allowing me to leave or bear to see your broken heart when I did. In a few short months, I have gone from my death bed, to falling in love and realizing I’m stronger than I ever thought possible. I have you to thank, for always being there for me. I am healthier now than I ever have been, but with my health came so many questions of who I am, and who my father was. I need to know him, to learn about the other parts of myself.
I have decided to find my father’s family, and hopefully to discover myself in the process. Please don’t think I am leaving because of something bad nor question how much I love you. You have and will always be enough for me. You are the brightest light and my only wish in life is that your beautiful flame continues to burn. I want you to take this opportunity of my absence to discover who you are without me. Go on a date, go on a long overdue vacation and sleep in on the weekend without worrying about me. No more hospitals, no more bargaining with life—instead we must live it. For now, though, we must do it separately.
Nobody puts Baby in a corner.
Love always,
Swayzi
Linda dropped the note and gripped onto the back of the chair. The paper fluttered slowly to the ground and Linda fell with it, holding her heart as she sobbed.
She called her daughter’s cell phone, but it went straight to voicemail.
“Hey, you’ve reached Swayzi, umm leave a message.”
Linda dropped her cell phone and ran outside into the twilight. The brisk wind hit her face, and she could see her breath as she panted. There was a panic burning inside of her that was slowly splitting her soul—a terrible intuition that Swayzi was not okay.
She reached the Cobi’s porch in seconds, knocking frantically on the door. There was no answer, so she used the key hidden under the flower pot.
“Tyler?” Linda called. No answer.
“Tyler?” she called again with more urgency.
She set the key on the table next to the door, and a piece of ripped newspaper fell to the ground. She bent down to pick it up, and in black permanent marker it read:
I’M WITH SWAYZI.
-Ty
First of all, I would like to thank my sister, Meagan. Thank you for reading every single version of this book and for loving these characters almost as much as I do. You answered every strange text message and distraught phone call. You talked me through almost every single scene, and I can say without a doubt, if it wasn’t for your fangirl dedication to this book, it wouldn’t have been written.
Dustin Schwindt, as my editor, you gave me permission to not doubt myself, and for that I can’t thank you enough. You told me I was a writer. And hearing that from someone as incredibly talented as you made me finally believe it. You have this way of sprinkling a little glitter on my words and making them sparkle. You took the story I wrote and fanned it into something greater. Thank you for always challenging me.
To my husband, Garry, thank you for supporting my dream to be published and for never saying out loud that I was crazy. Thank you for letting me surprise you with my ability to turn my rain drop of an idea into a monsoon and ride out that storm all the way to the end. I love you.
To all my friends and family that read my drafts, listened to my insane plotlines, and genuinely cared when I talked about the characters as if they were real people (they are, by the way)—thank you. Sarah, thank you for always being there for my kids when I couldn’t be and for being the most amazing sister-wife a girl could ask for. Irasema & Kerrimyeah, you are the best kind of friends—you both completely get me. Without your unwavering support, and ideas, this book wouldn’t have made it to publication. Thank you, Dian & Davide, for our countless brainstorming sessions, and for giving me a solid home for my creativity to thrive. Mom & Dad, you gave me the awesome gene. Thank you for successfully molding me into the person I am today. Auntie Michelle—my fellow nerd, the one who will read anything because I told you to (including this book) and talk about it in excruciating detail until we are blue in the face—let’s never stop.
To all the editors, proofreaders and beta-readers for giving me your honest opinions—Olivia, Jill, Renato, who made this story what it is today, and Claire of Eight Little Pages, who sifted through my Pinterest account, used my not so subtle mood boards and created the cover of my dreams—thank you.
Finally, to Ben Alderson of Oftomes Publishing, thank you for believing in me and for not throwing my email in the trash when I so bluntly said you were meant to publish my book. From the very beginning, you understood my vision. You gave my story life.
I’m a lucky girl.
About the Author
Jenna Morland is the author of Empress Unveiled published by Oftomes Publishing. Jenna is a Canadian born author, song writer, and mother of two that lives under the Northern Lights. Slytherin to the core, Jenna’s ambition to write her debut novel happened somewhere between training for a triathlon and putting her kids to bed. But it was her determination to follow through that landed her a publishing deal. Growing up, her wild imagination thrived off of reading and her most desired hobby was to let a book completely consume her. Unlike most writers, Jenna never wrote in a diary. She dreaded English class and she never dreamt that one day she would write a novel. Until she did.
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