Something inside me cracks open.
Not relief.
Hope.
For the first time in weeks, I feel it.
Small. Fragile. Blinding.
Hope.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
He nods once more.
Now the fire doesn't look like hell anymore.
It looks like possibility.
And one thing is certain:
I’m not losing Jade Bryan.
Not again.
Not ever.
Chapter 17
JADE
Boston hits different in winter.
Like the cold has personality.
Like the wind has something to say.
Friday morning after Thanksgiving, we pile into the rental SUV—Mom, Dad, my little siblings snoring under blankets in the back seat—and drive toward the city with the sun low and pink on the horizon, the air sharp as bitten apples. Christmas lights are already wound around every lamppost. Wreaths hang from brownstone doors like the whole place is auditioning for a holiday movie.
And honestly?
It kind ofis.
The second we check into the hotel—warm lobby, fireplace crackling, garlands twined up the banister—I feel my shoulders drop for the first time in months. A little kid squeals as he runs across the marble floor. Some business guy in a suit is FaceTiming his grandmother. My little brother, Max, asks if we can go ice-skating later, and my sister Lily keeps pressing her nose to every glass ornament we pass.
It feels… normal.
Or as close to normal as my life gets now.
Before we left the Cape, Aunt Susan hugged me at the door and whispered, “Go make memories with your family. I’ll hold down the fort. And don’t wait up tonight—Iwon’t be.” Then she winked like a teenager sneaking out past curfew.
I swear I felt my jaw hit the ground.
“SUSAN,” I whispered.
“What? I’m allowed to have a life, Jade.”
“You’re… going on a date?”
