I kneel down next to her and pull the string of solar Christmas lights out of my bag. I drape them on her headstone, trailing the strands down both sides of her grave.
I stay until nightfall, watching the lights begin to twinkle. My hand rests on the ground above her. When I get up, my fingers linger in the grass.
I walk to my car and never once do I look back.
Mina’s night-lights will endure. Year after year, Trev will replace them when they dim. And I know that someday, when I’m ready to come home, they’ll light my way.
Acknowledgments
This book would not be possible without so many people’s support and faith that carried me through its creation. Writing can be a solitary thing until the village it takes to publish a novel welcomes you into their fold. And I was lucky enough to be welcomed by the best village of all.
Thank you to my agent, Sarah Davies, for everything. You changed my entire life, and I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to thank you properly for what you’ve taught me.
For my editor, Lisa Yoskowitz, thank you for your understanding of the characters and the love story I wanted to tell. You raised me and my work to new heights.
Thanks to Amber Caraveo, whose patience and instincts helped the book blossom in such lovely, deadly ways.
Thanks to the wonderful team at Hyperion, who put so much care and creative spark into all aspects of the book. Special thanks to Kate Hurley, my copy editor, whose sharp eye I am indebted to, and Whitney Manger, who designed me an absolutely beautiful cover.
For my parents and the rest of my amazing family. But especially for my mother, Laurie. Thank you, Mom, for reading every single thing I’ve ever written like it mattered, even my second grade opus “Two Fast Doctors.”
So much gratitude must go to my dedicated, brutally honest critique partners: Elizabeth May and Allison Estry, who make my manuscripts bleed in the best ways. And thanks to Kate Bassett, for beta-reading and cheerleading.
Thanks to the Fourteenery, for hand holding, hilarity, and always blaming it on Melvin.
For Franny Gaede, who is truly the Walter to my Hildy.
A shout-out to the girls of the Crazy Chat. You ladies know who you are. Thank you from the bottom of my broken teen girl heart.
To those who helped shape me: Georgie Cook, Ellen Southard, Arnie Erickson, Carol Calvert, Ted Carlson, Antonio Beecroft, John Dembski, Michael Uhlenkott, Peggy S., Lynn P., and the entire crew over at SSHS circa 2001–2004.
And to my gramz, Marguerite O’Connell, who told me when I was little that I must always start my stories with something attention-grabbing. Hopefully I lived up to her advice.
About the Author
Born in a backwoods cabin to a pair of punk rockers, TESS SHARPE grew up in rural California. Following an internship with the Oregon Shakespeare Festival, she studied theater at Southern Oregon University before abandoning the stage for the professional kitchen. She lives, bakes, and writes near the Oregon border. This is her first novel. Visit her online at www.tess-sharpe.com.