“You don’t need to thank me,” I tell her. “I wasn’t letting you go. Not to the darkness. Not to anywhere that was away from me.”
She’s quiet for a moment. “I used to think I didn’t deserve this. Happiness. Family.You. I thought I deserved to be destroyed for the things I did before I understood what it meant to be human.”
“And now?”
“Now I think maybe I was wrong,” she says. “Maybe I’m not defined by the desperate choices I made when I was just a formless spirit trying to escape the cold and survive. Maybe I’m defined by who I choose to benow.”
I bring her hand to my lips and kiss her knuckles. “You are. And who you choose to be now is pretty spectacular.”
She rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. “You’re biased.”
“Completely biased,” I agree. “And I don’t care.”
Raven, who has somehow gotten tiramisu all over her face despite the dessert being mostly gone, announces that she needs to show us something inside. This apparently requires everyone to follow her, so we all troop into the villa’s main sitting room.
The “something” turns out to be a drawing she made. It’s taped to the wall, and it’s... well, it’s something.
“That’s all of us!” Raven explains proudly. “See, there’s Daddy with his big wings, and Mommy with her pretty hair. And that’s Uncle Kharon and Aunt Ksenia and Baby Luna. And Uncle Remus and Uncle Romulus—I drew them with two heads, see? And Auntie Lauren. And that’s you, Uncle Layden!”
I study the stick figure that’s apparently me. It has what might be wings, or possibly just really angular arms.
“And this is Auntie Phoenix next to you,” Raven continues. “You’re holding hands because you’re married and in love.”
Indeed, the stick figures representing Phoenix and me are holding hands. Phoenix leans in to look closer.
“Why am I purple?” she asks.
“Because purple is a pretty color,” Raven explains, as if this is obvious.
“Naturally.”
“And I drew hearts around you because that’s what you do when people are in love.”
The stick-figure versions of us are indeed surrounded by hearts. Lots of hearts.
“It’s beautiful, Raven,” Hannah says.
“Thank you,” Raven says solemnly. “It took me forever. Like, at least twenty minutes.”
Phoenix is trying very hard not to laugh. I can tell by the way she’s biting her lip.
“It’s perfect,” I tell Raven. “Truly a masterpiece.”
Raven beams. Then she zooms off to show her drawing to someone else, leaving us all standing there looking at stick-figure representations of our family.
“She put a lot of effort into those hearts,” Phoenix observes.
“She did,” I agree.
“I count at least fifteen hearts just around us.”
“True love requires many hearts, apparently.”
Phoenix bumps her shoulder against mine. “Apparently.”
As the afternoon stretches into evening, we move back outside. The sun is setting now, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink and gold. Someone—probably Lauren—lights candles along the table, and the warm glow makes everything feel magical.
Raven has finally worn herself out and is dozing on Abaddon’s lap, her little wings drooping. Luna is asleep inside, according to Kharon. The twins have stopped arguing, mostly because Remus has fallen asleep while Romulus continues chatting with Lauren.
