Page 343 of Bitter’s Sweet

Then he hands it back instead of holding on.

I settle against his shoulder because I choose to, and his arm comes around me because I already told him he can.

The School of the Dead glows behind us.

Mama’s repaired picture waits upstairs. My textbooks have their locker downstairs, and my pink shoes have their place beneath my workstation. Bitter’s bike sits near my pale blue hatchback.

At the bottom of the old murder hole, Razor is finally quiet and out of reach.

Somewhere else, a Ravenfork secret is still waiting to be dug up.

Tomorrow.

Tonight, Bitter kisses the top of my head, Sheriff screams at the moon, and I finally understand something Mama would have loved.

Normal really is boring with witnesses.

Good thing I found people who know how to make a funeral feel like home.

The End