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Life and light, she thought, were stubborn things. They must, and they would, bloom and shine against the dark. They would not be snuffed out like a candle, but flame on and on and on.
as the pieces death takes from you find a way to live without them. You honor their death by living and doing and standing.”
Without hope, grief loses the strength to live on, and fight on, and hold.
How she could have two worlds mean home should’ve been a mystery. But she found it a gift.
For a moment, she lay in the quiet, in the glow of the flickering fire, just holding on to the moment of comfort between night and day.
Now she had this, something she’d once felt unable to even dream of. She had work she loved, and she had purpose.
May joy surround you and contentment latch your door, and may the gods send their blessings now and evermore.”
She had her mother’s coloring, the deep golden skin, the thick black hair. But in place of Minga’s steady dignity, an infectious cheer lived in Kiara.
Marco was a force, and one that could not, would not be stopped. Or even slowed, Breen discovered. He whirled her into shops where he chatted up the clerks until they fell under his spell.
“You’re not nervous?” she asked as they walked to the elevator. “Do you see my outfit? Are you seeing how I own this outfit? Nobody who looks this fine’s got nerves.”
Live her wonder of a life in two worlds.
