“Here,” Lucian said irritably, shoving a coat at me. He was tall, dark, and evil. I was short, fair, and awesome. “That’s not mine,” I said. “It’s mine. Put it on before you freeze to death.” “If I put it on, will you go away?” I asked. I wanted to be alone. To catch my breath. To glare up at the clouds and tell my father I missed him, that I hated cancer, that if it snowed, I would lay on my back in it and make him a snow angel. Maybe I’d have time to let out a few of the tears I’d dammed up inside me.
