Back in a Spell (The Witches of Thistle Grove, #3)

by Lana Harper

Like I already had my shot at my dream life, everything the way I wanted it, the way it was supposed to be. And I screwed it up, just by being myself.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, do only nerdboy edgelords get to enjoy such cool-kid stuff as sci-fi classics?”

Sydney also faithfully subscribed to the “don’t go to bed angry” maxim, mostly because you weren’t ever going to get to sleep, not on the night of a fight with her.

“I truly cannot believe we’re having this tripped-out conversation. And that you just casually dropped the term ‘lore’ on me.”

which, given our circumstances, felt fair enough as an assessment.

Mistook a bunch of red flags for a carnival, as they say—and by ‘they,’ I obviously mean the relevant memes.

But that was the point, and the comfort of it, too; no matter the weight of your pain or loss, the world only ever knew how to move on.