“My fics. The printed ones.” “The only ones you have left,” I say the unspoken thing. “Yeah.” She sits up off me. “I want you to have them.” Her eyes are earnest but a little scared. I start to shake my head. “Luna—” “You’ve read more of my stories than anyone else. Maybe even more than Charlie. He doesn’t reread them like you do, I don’t think. I just thought…you’d want them, since I have no use for them anymore.”
