I sigh when my thoughts end up right where Emma knew they would. “You think you know me so well.”
“Like the back of my hand, baby.”
I let my eyes go unfocused, the popcorn ceiling overhead morphing into fantastical shapes like I’m cloud-gazing. “I can’t imagine actually saying bye to you, Em.”
“You sound like him now.”
“How about just for today, we do something shocking and have a little faith?”
I smile. “Faith, huh? You’re starting to sound like a broken record.”
Emma doesn’t laugh or make a joke for once. It’s strange to see her so solemn and serious. “If my grandma taught me anything, it’s that the hardest time to have faith is precisely the time you need it most. You’ll get through this, Kinsley Whitlow. So will that little princess down the hall. And maybe, at the end of the roa
