Imperfect.
Exactly us.
Hamish lets out one long triumphant bleat.
I glance toward him.
“I think Hamish is pleased,” I say.
“Hamish is always happy when chaos is involved. Which means he’s going to love what comes next.”
I pull back slightly to study her face.
“What comes next?”
Her smile turns downright diabolical.
“You’re going to have to tell Maggie her plan worked.”
My expression collapses instantly.
“No.”
“Oh yes.”
“Mary, absolutely not. She’s going to be unbearable.”
“She was always going to be unbearable. We might as well give her the victory now.”
I groan—a deeply grumpy sound that makes her laugh harder.
“I hate when you’re right,” I mutter.
“You should get used to it. It happens often.”
I stare at her for a second before finally shaking my head with a resigned smile.
“Fine. We’ll go face Maggie together.”
“You need emotional support?” she teases.
“Possibly.”
We walk toward the castle hand in hand followed by two sheep who have finally decided to call a truce.
And somewhere along the way, I realize I made peace too.
With my past.
With myself.
I found my home.
My family.
I’m staying in Glenfield.
With Mary.
