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Maybe there isn’t a meaning to life. Maybe there’s only a meaning to living.
One by one, I fill the glasses. One for Aunt Prue, who saw everything without blinking. One for Twyla, who gave up everything without hesitating. One for my mom, who let me go not once but twice. One for Amma, who took her place with the Greats so I could take mine in Gatlin again.
We’ve loved every minute of this. Every character, every chapter, every page. More than anything, all we need to acknowledge now is the one person who made it all happen— YOU. Our favorite Caster Reader(s). Thank you. For everything. For all of it. It’s been a wild ride—
