Oh, Fudge.

“I swear, the pilots were jiggling the controls around just to scare us,” I said as Emilia and I stepped into the San Fransisco International Airport. It seemed to be just a bigger version of the one we had just left, as though laid to the same blueprint. He…ck, even the same people seemed to be there.

Emilia looked at me with raised brows. “Mmhm. So, now that we’re finally here, in California, in San Fransisco, I just have no idea where to get to that old house from here…”


“House. Mom’s.”

“You still haven’t told me why we’re going there.”

“God hasn’t, yet?” she said with a small smile on her face.

“Wai – what’s that supposed to mean? I’m supposed to be doing this by myself!” I whined. I hope I didn’t sound too defensive at this point.

“A great job you’re doing at it, too.”

“Well, you haven’t gotten in too much trouble, yet…”

“Oh, yeah? What if I do this?” And she vanished into the crowd.


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