My demon, my angel, You fill my head with Thoughts I try to leave behind. You make my chest Contract and expand, Giving and taking each breath.
My demon, my angel, You fill my heart with Pain and so much love. You twist my brain In squares and triangles, Caressing and destroying my mind.
My demon, my angel, My lovely cruel creature, Filled with sugar and venom. You crush my heart And stitch it back up, Leaving me weeping and radiant.
My demon, my angel, I will not walk this earth without you, But I will not see heaven with you. In our own beautiful hell we will live, Eternally held in an Agonizing embrace.
There was no way in hell Cameron was going to turn in this manuscript. No. Freaking. Way. Cameron sighed and closed her laptop, not wanting to look at what she’d written for another second. She wanted to throw the stupid computer out the window, but she knew her bank account would not appreciate that. Neither would it appreciate if she didn’t turn in this book. She had a deadline, and if she didn’t turn it in, she was going to lose a lot of money. She only needed to write the last chapter. While it would be easy to write the sappy ending she knew her readers wanted, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She’d written the whole book in terms of what others wanted her to write, but she couldn’t stand it. It was cheap writing and a cheaper ending. Just then, Cameron received a call from her editor–perfect timing… “Hey, Cam! How’s the book coming along?” chirped Lola, her pushy editor. Cameron only groaned in response. “It’s that bad, huh?” Lola said. “It’s worse than bad. It’s catastrophic. I can’t turn this in, Lola.” “Oh, come on. You say this about everything you write.” Cameron started shaking her head vigorously, even though she knew Lola couldn’t see her. “I mean it this time. I can’t end my series like this.” “Cam, I’ve read this thing a million times over, and I’m telling you it’s amazing. Your fans will love it.” “Can you convince the publishers at Bookish to extend my deadline? I can write something better.” Lola sighed. “You know as well as I do that it’s not possible. Unless you want to break your deal and lose out on your money…and never work with Bookish again. And possibly be blacklisted from the publishing community…and disappoint all your fans–“ “Okay, okay! Jeez Lola, I get it.” “I hope you do. Because if you don’t turn in this book, it’ll be my ass, too. And as much as I love you, I do not want to go down with you, you hear me? If not for yourself or your fans, do it for me.” Lola always had such a way with words. “Fine,” Cameron said through gritted teeth. “But if it flops, I’m going to blame you.” “Blame me all you want. We’ll both be swimming in money and I won’t care,” she said sweetly. “Now finish that damn thing and send it to me, then you can turn it in and never have to think about it again.” She hung up. Cameron groaned again and opened her computer. The deadline was tomorrow, so she might as well get it out of the way and put it behind her for good. She wrote out the sappy, predictable ending that she knew her readers wanted, then closed her computer and put it away, disgusted with herself. She’d take a look at it one more time tomorrow before turning it in, but for now, she was done. As Cameron slept that night, she dreamt of the public mobbing her because of how terrible her book was. They turned into towering letters and were slowly crushing her. But then, out of the nightmare, something else came to her… Cameron leapt out of her bad and ran to her computer. She deleted the last chapter she’d written and began typing furiously before the idea could leave her head. When she’d finished, she sat back in satisfaction, then went back and re-read what she’d written, editing it as she went along. Then she went ahead and sent it to her publishers at Bookish. Lola would kill her for not letting her read it before turning it in, but she didn’t want Lola to try and change her mind about the ending. Satisfied, Cameron went back to sleep.
The next morning, Cameron woke to six missed calls from Lola. With dread, Cameron called her back.
“Are you absolutely fucking insane?” Lola screeched.
“Lola, calm down–“
“What were you thinking with that ending? The publishers are furious! They called me asking why you ended it like that, and as surprised as I was, I tried my best to cover for your ass! Why did you turn it in without having me read it first?”
Cameron sighed. “Because I knew you wouldn’t approve.”
“And for good reason, too! How could you do this? Do you realize what this will do to the fans? What the publishers will do? You might not get another deal with them.”
“Hey, I wrote an ending that I was happy with. Isn’t that better than thoughtlessly catering to the wants of others?”
“No,” Lola practically growled.
“Well, it’s too late anyway. I’ve turned it in, and there’s no going back.”
Lola let out a frustrated yell. “I hope for both our sakes that this goes over well.” Then she was gone.
Despite Lola’s strong disapproval, Cameron couldn’t help but feel proud of herself. It was one of the best endings she’d ever written. To hell with Lola’s opinion, her publishers, and the public.
Cameron finally felt like a true writer.
The old man ascends the steps slowly, his gaze focused entirely on his feet. He keeps a steady pace, each foot proceeding to the next step every three seconds. It’s methodical, mechanical, rhythmic. He pays no mind those around him who are rushing up the steps in their hurry to get to work, school, an interview, or to meet up for coffee. The man stays his course, right in the middle of the path, and no amount of glares or curses or getting bumped into can throw his focus. He wears a gray suit, though a tattered one of many, many years. His tie lay crookedly on his shirt, and his gray hat is covered in moth-bitten holes. His bony fingers tremble as he move, but his legs are steady. Wrinkles layer his face, showing his years of wisdom, and aging spots have appeared like freckles on his skin. His eyes are gray and murky, yet they never lose their focus as he ascends the steps, never slowing down his pace, never taking a wavering step. One could only image what is going on in his mind, underneath that old weathered fedora…
I’ll be there soon. Just a few more steps, then we can be together again. Right, left, right, left, right, left…I’m almost there. I didn’t think I could hang on for so long, but I’m doing it for her, my sweet Evelyn.
Right, left, right, left, right…ah. The last step. I’ve reached the top.
Now I lift my head, and I spot our bench. I take a seat with a grunt, and despite my fatigue from getting up here, a smile spreads across my face. I look out at the view, taking it in one last time. The sun’s beauty makes my eyes water. It’s almost as beautiful as my Evelyn. It’s like it is her, joining me in this last moment, telling me to come home, to come to her.
I close my eyes and let the warmth of the sun spread throughout my creaking joints. I try to adjust my tie–I could never tie it straight the way Evelyn did.
I breathe in the scent of pine, and as I breathe out, I let go.
I join my sweet Evelyn.
Victory is sweet, Or so it’s been told. It’s a well-known fact, Since times of old.
Sweet, sweet Victory, That I followed into the sky. But when I got there, Victory became shy.
I chased and cajoled, Begging Victory to stay with me. But Victory had other plans, Plans filled with cruelty.
And so I fell from the sky, Landing smack on my face. Victory laughed, And left post-haste.
With nowhere left to go, I crawled back home. I nursed my bruises and wounds, Scared and alone.
But at least I can say that I took the road less traveled by, And that has made all the difference. Yes, Victory is bitter, But tastes so much better with patience.
Victory will see,
I’ll reach that glory.
I’ll fight to the end–
That will be my story.
The stars Smiled upon us, As if they knew we’d Soon join them.
I’d never seen The stars, until the Night you introduced Me to them.
I counted– One, two Three, four Hundred billion.
You gave me The stars, Then promised Me the world.
You promised me Eternity, but showed up Empty-handed.
Now we Return to the sky, Enveloped in A cold embrace.
Not as lovers Or enemies, But as Nothing.
Georgia felt a tap on her shoulder. Taking out one earbud, she glanced at who had disturbed her peace. It was a girl dressed in a pink top and a frilly white skirt, which contrasted horribly with Georgia’s own black outfit. This girl must’ve been the new hire, so she didn’t yet know to not bother Georgia while she was listening to music.
Oblivious to Georgia’s annoyance, the girl grinned and stuck out a purple-tipped, perfectly manicured hand. “Hi! I’m Lani,” she chirped.
Georgia hesitantly shook Lani’s hand, which was so delicate that Georgia feared she would break it. “Nice to meet you.” She pulled her hand away and self-consciously inspected her chipped black nails for a moment. She made to put her earbud back in her ear when Lani spoke again.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
“Georgia.”
“Gosh, that is such a pretty name. Is there a meaning behind it?”
“It’s where my parents met,” Georgia said drily. It was also where she was conceived, but she preferred to leave that part out.
“That’s neat! I wish my name had a cool backstory.”
“Right.” Once again, Georgia tried putting her earbud back in, but Lani wasn’t finished just yet.
“My name means ‘heaven’ or ‘sky’, but there’s no special meaning to it. My mom just looked up random baby girl names. I mean, couldn’t they have named me after my grandmother or something? I want a name with significance.”
“I’m sure you do.”
“What would you name your kid?”
“Um, I don’t know.”
Lani’s eyes widened. “Really? I have a whole list of baby names! For boys I’ve got Mason, Carlisle, and Anthony. For girls I’ve got Adeline, Mercy, and Sloan. You know what? I just might add Georgia to the list.”
“That’s nice.” This girl was way too talkative for this early in the morning.
“You know, you have such pretty hair! Is it natural?”
“Yes.”
“Gosh, I would kill to have jet black hair like yours. I’ve considered dying it, but my mom said black hair doesn’t look good on natural blondes. Bad for my complexion. Speaking of, you’ve got killer skin. Do you use any products?”
“Um…no.” Georgia was baffled at Lani’s enthusiasm. And how could she not realize that Georgia didn’t want to talk to her?
“You are so lucky.” Lani sighed airily. “I have to use a million products and a pound of makeup in order to make my skin smooth. Do you wear makeup?”
“No.”
“You should try wearing a bit of eyeliner! I think it would bring out your eyes.” She leaned over Lani’s chair and looked at her workspace. “Watcha working on?” she asked, breathing down Georgia’s neck.
Georgia rolled her eyes, but Lani was none-the-wiser. “Don’t you have things to do?”
“Actually, I was wondering if you could show me the ropes?” Lani said. “We’re on the same project. Isn’t that going to be fun?”
“Yeah. Just peachy.”
Lani laughed as if Georgia had just told the funniest joke in the world. Her laugh sounded like a cross between a hyena and a giggling clown.
“I totally get it!” Lani said in between breaths.
“Get what?”
“‘Peachy!’ As in ‘peaches’’, because your name is Georgia, and Georgia is known for peaches!” She let out a cackle. “You’re hilarious!”
Georgia was starting to get a headache. “Listen, I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can train you. I have a lot of work to do.”
“Oh come on, I know you can take a break to be my mentor. We’ll have so much fun–heck, I think we might even become work besties!”
Clearly, this girl couldn’t take a hint. “Lani,” Georgia said stiffly. “I have no intention of becoming ‘work besties’ with you.” Her voice rose. “In fact, I don’t want anything to do with you. I want you to leave me alone!”
Lani stood dumbfounded, and at first Georgia felt satisfied. But then Lani’s lower lip quivered and her eyes watered. She turned on her heel and ran. Georgia heard her cries as she ran into the bathroom.
Georgia tried to resume her work, but she couldn’t concentrate. She kept thinking of the devastated look on Lani’s face. Even though Lani was annoying as hell, she was just trying to make a friend.
Georgia sighed, then stood up and went to the bathroom. She heard sniffles coming from the last stall and walked until she was standing in front of it.
“Lani?” Georgie ventured.
The sniffles stopped abruptly. “Yeah?” croaked out Lani’s voice.
“If you still want me to…I’ll be your mentor.”
A few seconds of silence passed before the bathroom stall opened, revealing a puffy-eyed Lani with mascara streaks on her face. She sniffed again and wiped her eyes with toilet paper, then grinned. “Of course…‘work bestie’.” She winked.
Georgia sighed. She was never going to have peace again.
Eileen owed Slauson ten bucks. She’d taken one look at the deserted, icy expanse that stretched on for miles and miles before them and believed they would find nothing but ice and snow. Always up for a challenge, Slauson immediately bet her ten dollars that they would find something. Eileen didn’t even think he believed they would, but he enjoyed contesting her every chance he got.
Now Eileen stared up in awe, taking in the colossal metal contraption in front of them. Captain Harlow had said it was a ship from back in the Old Days, though it looked too advanced to be something from the past.
Around Eileen, teams were getting ready to head inside. Explorers suited up, scientists pulled out their devices and soldiers readied their weapons. Eileen was an analyst, so she didn’t fall under any of those categories. Her only job was to wait out here for the others to finish their investigation and come out so she could analyze the data they’d gathered.
One by one, the teams slipped inside–the last to go was Slauson, who gave Eileen a little wave and rubbed his fingers together, making the sign for “money”. Eileen rolled her eyes, then Slauson winked and disappeared into the yawning black opening of the ship.
Eileen set up the folding lawn chair she’d brought along with her and sat down, making herself comfortable. She knew from previous excursions that she could be waiting for hours. She pulled out a magazine, something from the Old Days. Slauson knew Eileen liked to collected items from before the War, so he’d bring her back a souvenir from his explorations. This magazine was one of the many trinkets he’d brought her–it was about baking, and Eileen loved eyeing at the many mouth-watering recipes that she knew she would never be able to make.
Eileen was reading a recipe involving raspberries and figs–she was pretty sure figs didn’t even exist anymore–when she heard it. It was a piercing screech, so high-pitched it made her ears hurt. It sounded like grating metal, and for some reason, Eileen sensed that whatever was making the sound was angry. It sent a shiver down her spine. She set down her magazine and listened closely, but she couldn’t hear anything. Then, faintly in the distance, she heard a voice. This time it was human, and it was saying something, something urgent. Chills went through Eileen’s body as she realized what she was hearing: help.
Eileen stood abruptly and turned to Marlin, the soldier who’d stayed behind to stand guard. She was about to say something to him, but realized he was already headed toward the mouth of the ship. Eileen started to follow him, but he held up his hand, indicating that she stay put.
As Marlin neared the ship, he tried to say something in the radio but only received static in response. Marlin readied his gun and slowly approached the entrance, and suddenly, the cry for help turned into a blood-curdling scream. It increased in volume until it sounded like it was right at the ship’s exit. Then it went silent. After thirty seconds of bated breath, Eileen saw someone emerge from the opening. She let out a breath of relief when she recognized the figure to be Slauson. She started jogging towards him, but as she got closer she realized something was wrong, and she stopped.
Slauson stood very still, and his limbs were bent at odd angles, as if they had been just given to him and he wasn’t quite sure how to use them yet. His head was lolling back and forth, and his eyes–his eyes had a gray sheen, almost as if they had been covered in the same metallic material of the ship. His skin had been drained of color, and his body was almost as pale as the snow around him.
“Slauson?” Marlin called out. “You good?”
At the sound of Marlin’s voice, Slauson stirred. His metallic eyes trained on Marlin, and he started walking. It was slow and clunky at first, but then he started to pick up speed.
“Stop,” Marlin warned, “or else I’ll shoot.” He aimed his gun at Slauson, but Slauson didn’t even pause. He continued picking up his pace until he was almost running toward Marlin, his limbs still bent awkwardly so that he looked like Frankenstein’s monster. Once Slauson reached several feet away from Marlin, Eileen saw Marlin put his finger on the trigger.
“Marlin, don’t!” she cried out, but it was too late. The gunshot rang out and echoed across the frozen landscape. Eileen looked at Slauson, expecting to see his dead body on the ground, but he was still standing. There was a hole in his chest from where the bullet had entered, but in a matter of seconds the bullet slid out, covered in a clear, gelatin-like fluid. Before Marlin could react, Slauson lunged for him, knocking the gun out of his hands and tackling him to the ground. Slauson shoved a piece of the clear goop down Marlin’s throat, and Eileen could only watch in horror as Marlin started to twitch, his body steaming and gurgling noises coming out of his mouth. Then suddenly, Marlin stopped making noise altogether and went completely still, his eyes glazing over until they became the same color as Slauson’s.
Slauson stood slowly and locked his icy-metal eyes on Eileen, who suddenly found she had lost the ability to move. He tilted his head, as if pondering something, and he almost looked like he recognized her. Then came that same piercing screech from before, and Slauson shook his head and started toward Eileen, slowly and grotesquely until he was standing over her. As Eileen searched his eyes, she realized with despairing finality that the friend she knew was gone.
Then grayness took over, and the angry cries drowned her.
Sadie regretted her decision. After days of no food, she had broken her rule and had given in to temptation. But their food looked so good, and they had so much, so Sadie didn’t think they would miss a few bread rolls and meat packets. Now she fought the river current as it pushed against the rickety canoe she had found at the shore of their campsite. It had seemed like a good getaway option at the time, but now she wished she had chosen to escape on-foot instead. It would’ve been much drier. Sadie was soaked, each stroke of the paddle causing the raucous waves to splash back in her face. A blanket fog had settled on the river so that she could hardly see anything. Not that it mattered much, because even if she could see, she wouldn’t have a clue where to go. Sadie glanced behind her. She could see a few of the camp people staring at her from the shoreline, but they weren’t running after her. She let out a small breath of relief and allowed herself to relax a bit. However, her good fortune was short-lived, as when she looked out on the water behind her, she saw that a group of them were pursuing her in a much better and much bigger canoe than hers. Now that just wasn’t fair–why did she get the crappy boat? Sadie paddled harder, but her arms were already tiring and her pursuers were quickly gaining on her, especially since they had more manpower. She looked for somewhere to dock, somewhere that would allow her to hide, but it was almost impossible to see anything through the thick fog. In the distance, she spotted a patch of trees that seemed to be a small forest. She headed in that direction, which with her luck, happened to be to the left, and the current was not only pushing her backward but also to the right. So that just made her task ten times more difficult. Sadie pushed and pulled, pushed and pulled, but she didn’t seem to be getting anywhere. The canoe behind her was now close enough that she could tell they were yelling something, though she couldn’t make out anything. Sadie felt her arms slow down even more, and she considered giving up entirely. She was drenched with freezing water, and she was still weak and hungry. She hadn’t gotten to eat much of the stash she’d stolen when they saw her and she was forced to make her escape. She would’ve stayed to try and explain the situation to them, but something told her the big guns they were holding were not signs of peace. The fog was getting thicker, and Sadie lost sight of the patch of trees. She didn’t know anymore if she was getting closer to them or was going into the opposite direction. She continued paddling blindly, motivated by the ever-closer shouts of her pursuers. Eventually, Sadie’s canoe crashed up against the shore. She didn’t care where she was anymore, she just wanted to get away from the river. She jumped out of the canoe, and even though all she wanted to do was collapse on the ground and kiss the dirt, she forced herself to run, not knowing where she was headed. All she knew was the sounds of the camp people was becoming more distant, and that was a good thing. Up ahead, Sadie caught a glimpse of green, and she almost shouted with joy. She pushed herself to go faster, knowing that if she could just make to those trees, she could disappear. Hiding was one thing she prided herself on. It was what had gotten her this far. She didn’t bother to check and see if she was being followed–one rule of running was to never look back. She was getting closer, maybe just a couple hundred feet away from safety… Sadie’s foot snagged on something, and she tumbled tlo the ground. She cursed as her chin banged on a rock. She felt blood pour down her neck, but she didn’t have time to worry about it. She tried to stand, but immediately fell back down as a searing pain shot through her right ankle. She was fairly certain she had twisted it. Panting, she slowly stood again, this time putting her weight on her left foot, which was difficult since her right foot was her stronger one. She started hobbling towards the thicket of trees, but she was making very slow progress. Still, she wasn’t that far away, so maybe she could make it. Just then, Sadie’s hopes deflated as she heard the crunch of leaves behind her. Before she could even turn around, someone grabbed her from behind, holding her arms back so she couldn’t fight. “Over here!” the person called out–a man, by the sound of his voice. “Stop struggling,” he said to Sadie. “I’m trying to–“ he grunted as Sadie reared her right leg back and kneed him in the groin. She made a run for it, but cried out from the pressure on her left ankle and fell to her knees. She started crawling–it was not her proudest moment. Footsteps approached and then the man was looming over Sadie. She stared at his gruff face and his hard, black eyes, which was probably the last thing she would ever see. He reached into his backpack. Sadie closed her eyes, expecting him to pull out a knife and give her a slow, painful death for the trouble she’d caused. Sadie waited for a few seconds, but when the pain didn’t come, she opened her eyes. To her dismay, there was a sandwich in front of her. Confused, she looked up at the man. “You look like you need it,” he said. Sadie grabbed it and took a hesitant bite, then started to cry. It was the best sandwich she ever had.
I dream of Sunny meadows And rippling Blue oceans.
I dream of Royal balls and sparkly Gowns.
I dream of Endless skies, Dressed in Lovely stars.
But when my Dreams Fade Away,
I see fields Of wilted flowers, And dark Ravines.
I see Bloody battles And torn Dresses.
I see Black skies, Faded and Small.
The world betrays me, And I yearn to Go back to Sleep.
Luke was angry. And understandably so–Elmira was late again. She sat hurriedly at the table, wary of Luke’s tired expression and deafening silence. Elmira put on a dazzling smile. “Hi, honey! Sorry for being late, there was traffic and–no? Not gonna go for it? Okay.” Elmira dropped the smile and sighed, putting her head in her hands. “I know saying it doesn’t help, but I really am sorry.” “I know,” he said stiffly. Elmira saw a plate in front of him with the remains of pasta on it. “You ate already,” she pointed out. “I was waiting for an hour. I called you six times and sent you several messages.” Elmira looked down and played with her hands in her lap. “I never received them.” The truth was, she had gotten his texts, but she had been in the middle of a particularly nasty scuffle with a man who looked like a pirate and was three times her size, so that kind of took priority–especially since said pirate-man had been trying to blow up a hospital. “Right. Just like you didn’t get any of my texts all those other times you were late. Didn’t it occur to you to you at least send me a text? Or were you never taught common curtesy?” She looked up at him, surprised. He had always been so patient with her, which was one of the things she loved about him. She hadn’t seen him this upset before, and it worried her. “Luke, I–“ “You promised, Elmira. You said you wouldn’t be late anymore.” Luke shook his head. “How can I trust you if you can’t keep a simple promise?” “I can. I will. Or at least, I’ll text you in advance next time.” Elmira knew how weak it sounded. Luke let out a bitter chuckle. “You know what? I’m more disappointed in myself for actually believing you. I’ve been fooling myself because I’m in love with you–” he froze. Elmira’s breath hitched. “You–you love me?” Luke sighed. “I do, Elmira. Unfortunately, I do.” Under different circumstances, Elmira would’ve jumped up and kissed him. Because despite not having told him the truth about her, she loved him, too. She loved everything about him, the way his laughter and crying sounded the same, and the way he made toast for her in the morning that was a little burnt. She loved the way he danced like a crazy person and she loved his terrible puns. But instead of telling him all of this, she simply blurted out, “I’m sorry.” Luke gave a small, rueful smile. “I’m sorry, too.” Elmira furrowed her brows. “Why?” Luke studied her like she was something delicate that could explode at any moment. Elmira supposed she actually could–not that Luke knew that. “I think we should take a break,” Luke said. Elmira’s brief happiness deflated, and her heart clenched. “Take a break? As in…break up?” Luke nodded, not able to meet her eyes. “I don’t understand.” But the truth was, Elmira did understand. She had taken his patience for granted. He had treated her with nothing but kindness and generosity, and she had given him empty promises in return. “I’ve given you so many chances, Elmira. I can’t be with someone who won’t put in the same effort I do. And on top of that, I can never tell if you’re lying to me or not, one of the things I value most in a relationship is truthfulness.” Elmira had fought someone once who called himself Truth Bearer. Elmira had laughed at the name, and then he almost drowned her in an ocean of her own lies. She wasn’t laughing after that. “Truth,” Elmira said slowly, starting to get a crazy idea. “What if I told you the truth?” she said. “The real, honest truth.” “That would be a start,” Luke said. “Okay.” Elmira took a deep breath. This could be either the worst or best decision she’d ever made. “I’ll tell you the reason why I’m late to everything, why I disappear for hours at a time and why I hardly ever answer my phone…” Here it went. “It’s because I’m Pyro.” Luke stared at her, trying to gage if she was joking or not. “You’re…Pyro. The superhero,” he said skeptically. “Well, I wouldn’t say ‘superhero’, but yeah. That’s me…” she punched a fist weakly in the air. “Fighting bad guys…saving the day…yay…um, are you going to say something or continue to stare at me like I just told you I ate your mom?” Luke blinked a few times. “I just–how on earth are you Pyro?” His voice was rising like it usually did whenever he got nervous or shocked. “Hey, keep it down! There’s a good reason why in all the movies, superheroes don’t reveal their identities, and I follow that same rule. That’s why didn’t tell you, even though I’ve wanted to for so long.” “Wait. So you’re not just pulling my leg? You’re actually telling me the truth?” “For once, I actually am.” At Luke’s still-dumbfounded expression, she rolled her eyes. “Do you need proof?” “I’d certainly like some, yes.” “Fine.” Elmira looked around the restaurant to make sure no one was paying attention, then used her fire powers to snuff the candle’s flame, then lit it up again, letting the flame grow larger for a few seconds, then let it die down to its original size. Luke stared at the candle, then at Elmira, then back at the candle. “Is that enough proof for you?” she asked him. “Yes,” he said, still staring at the candle. “I have one more truth to give you, Luke.” “What is it?” he asked warily. Elmira took a deep breath. “I love you.” At that, Luke’s apprehension melted away, and he grinned. Elmira sighed in relief. She’d definitely made the right decision.