Most of all, though, I was angry at myself. So much of this mess was mine. I hadn’t been the one to make it, but I’d been the one to keep saying “later, later,” like anything ever really waited until later to become a problem. I could have gone looking for Mom, to try to make things right between us: I hadn’t. I could have made more of an effort to fix things with Sylvester: I hadn’t. I could have asked Acacia what she was doing about the Riders, or asked the Luidaeg to help me find Officer Thornton. I hadn’t. All my chickens were coming home to roost, and while I didn’t want them, I had
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