I leave the diner at the end of my shift, walking through cars in the lot and heading for the trees. Dinner is in an hour. Mom and Grandma are making a chicken pot pie—they've been wanting to make one ever since we arrived in Waindale. Apparently, my mom used to crave them as a kid and again when she was pregnant with me. I would always hear about Grandma's pot pie, how I must try it and must fall in love. All the women in our family learn this recipe by heart. I wonder what else the women in our family have in common.Dinner is in an hour. Instead of making my way home, I'm weaving through trees like a child running away. I grip my school bag as I rush down a dip in the forest. The sun is starting to fall behind the very tips of the pines, and I consider calling this place Pinedale—or Paindale.My school bag hits the ground

"I know! I'll be back by dinner!"I quickly pull on my jacket and shrug my backpack up my shoulders. Grandma comes into the front room with an umbrella and hands it to me."Thanks," I smile and take it."Always forgetting. Been here a month and—how many times has it been—caught in the rain maybe ten? Fifteen times?"My brows furrow. "No way. No more than ten.""Alright. Alright. Remember to say goodbye to your mother.""Out on the porch?" I double-check and grandma nods.I find my Mom with a blanket tossed over her shoulders and her laptop on her lap, the screen and its

This feels like the longest night in existence. All the lights in the house are out—my mother and grandmother had gone to bed a while ago—and I'm left to lay in the darkness of my bedroom. It's quiet, so painfully quiet. It's gotten too cold for the crickets and now the night is filled with unsettling, infrequent gusts of wind. I'd much rather hear the wet tapping of rain than this silence, but the one night I need noise is the one night of clear skies.Tomorrow is my first day at the Academy. I have my uniform hanging on the back of my desk chair. Contrary to my mother's beliefs, it fits near perfectly, which makes my mind wander to Adam. This situation that I've been thrown into is insane, completely unreal, but I still feel guilty for acting so cold towards him. He is clearly trying to make it work; I just can't get my mind around the idea of it actually working. There's n

"Someone is hungry."Peering up from my dinner plate, I find my mother and grandmother watching me. "Yeah, I am. Sorry.""No, no, it's a good thing," my grandmother assures me. "Why don't you tell us about your first day at your new school?"I nod and set down my fork, but my mom looks to her plate and doesn't lift her gaze again. "Well," I start, a little hurt, "today I was just shown around the school. I got my schedule and met the Dean. It's really nice. There's this courtyard, and the cafeteria food is amazing, and the people all seem—""Thanks for dinner, mom, but I have to get back to reviewing. Leave the dishes, I'll do it later," my mom says flatly and gets up from the table. I watch her disappear into the hallway. Momen

"Oh, Wrenley, you're home. I thought you'd be back later than this. Oh! Also, I found your mother's old yearbook." Grandma grabs the thick book off of the dining table and flips to a page she had marked. She points to a small picture of a guy. "That's him. He's your mother's first love. John Aymon."I glance at the image for a second before hurriedly taking off my shoes and bag and jacket. "Grandma, where's mom? She wasn't on the porch working.""Why, she's gone to the grocery store to pick up a few things." I think for a moment before stepping back into my shoes and tugging my jacket back on. "Where are you going, dear?" Grandma asks."I'm going to go find her.""I'm sure she'll be home soon. Just wait here and I'll make you a snack.