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The relief that floods through me is almost orgasmic.

This is what I’ve wanted. A comfortable bed, a cozy blanket, a place to just rest.

Since I arrived in Oz, I feel like I’ve been running from one end to the other, escaping hunters and rogue wizards, but chasing a dream that turned out to be an illusion.

Tears prick at my eyes. All my life, I wanted my parents. I dreamed about them returning to me and whisking me away. Only to find my parents in this strange land, and to be faced with the truth: Neither parent fought to have me in their life. It’s a crushing, bruising weight.

And further adding to my grief is the realization that I had exactly what I thought I was missing: two people who loved me and raised me and gave me a place to call home.

The tears escape and I swipe them away.

I owe Em and Henry so much.

All the nights Em would stay up late with me when the nightmares were too much to bear. The mornings when Henry would take me into the barn and let me help with the animals to distract me from the anxiety.

I should have been kinder. I should have told them how much I loved them more often, multiple times a day. I never spoke it aloud, but I know they must have felt the constant tug of my attention and my love for someone else who abandoned me and had no plan to return.

What an ungrateful asshole I was.

I turn onto my back and stare up at the draped canopy overhead.

The room smells of flowers and spice. Is that what the West smelled like? I wouldn’t know because she manipulated me into killing her before I had the chance to know her.

Rage floods in, drowning out the sadness, and I lie there, stewing in it for a long time, until finally exhaustion seeps in and I close my eyes and sleep.

I wake to the smell of frying bacon and my stomach growls.

I toss back the blanket and set my feet to the cold stone floor.

Outside the West’s bedroom, Oz has brightened only marginally, which must mean it’s late afternoon.

I find Tin at the massive stove in the kitchen. Eggs are frying in a cast-iron pan and there’s a plate on the worktable filled with crispy bacon.

“Every girl’s dream to find a heartless mercenary at her stove making her breakfast.”

His shoulders jerk with restrained laughter.

“Eggs over easy or scrambled?”

“Are you kidding? Over easy.”

Another pan on the back of the oven slowly toasts slices of bread.

I’m overwhelmed with the normalcy of it, and how jarring it is when placed beside the things we must endure next.

I don’t want to fight Rook. I barely want to rescue the father who said he was too tired to fight. But I can’t let Rook win either. And he has Toto. I’d fight him for that alone.

The longer I’m here, the more I uncover about my past, the more Oz is starting to feel like mine.

Another threat of tears burns in my sinuses but I sniff them back. I don’t want to cry anymore and I sure as hell don’t want to cry in front of a heartless mercenary.

I nab a piece of bacon and bite off the end and a happy little moan escapes me.

Tin glances at me over his shoulder. “I could listen to you moan like that all fucking day.”

My eyes pop open at his unexpected words and then heat is flaming in my face. I like it when he talks to me like that. I like it more than I want to admit because I’m afraid if I admit it, I will not get more of it.

“It’s good bacon,” I say innocently, but Tin laughs and turns back to the stove.