When You Smile

Chapter One

From its historic red and white brick buildings to the sprawling green lawns and colorful trees, Hillspoint University knew how to make an impression. The kaleidoscope of autumn hues grabbed Taryn by the throat the minute she stepped out of the car and into her new life on her own. She swallowed as a rush of intimidation hit. Luckily, she’d been prepared and took a long, slow breath in, reminding herself that everyone was nervous on the first day of anything important. She’d made a mental plan to keep her anxiety in check, and part of that meant physical check-ins with herself, deep breaths, and staying out of her own head.

She’d been impressed when she’d visited the university three years ago, imagining she’d attend as a freshman and take the world by storm. She’d had goals and aspirations and confidence for days on that visit, which felt like almost another lifetime now. She remembered being gobsmacked by the campus that looked like something out of a beautiful film, proud that her grades had all but guaranteed her admission. Unfortunately, she’d made the decision to defer.

She took a deep breath and, as anxious as she was, just let the moment wash over her. The grounds, the buildings, the meticulously maintained walkways were nothing like the community college she’d studied at for the last two years. Hillspoint felt vast and important by comparison and steeped in traditions she’d only just begun to study. She felt smarter just standing there and like her life was about to begin. The world suddenly felt full and limitless.

“You okay?” her mother asked quietly, giving her elbow a squeeze.

“It’s now or never, right?”

“Tare-Bear. You’re gonna knock ’em on their asses. Remember who you are.”

She nodded as her mom scooted around the other side of the car to gather a box to carry up.

“They said you’re on the fourth floor?” her dad asked, loading her belongings onto the portable cart he was so proud to own. She had to admit, he looked good, stronger lately and with more stamina. At the same time, she didn’t want him to overdo. He kept a smile on his face, but each small movement caused a weakening behind his eyes signaling his supreme effort. Taryn hated everything about the new normal. Fuck fate. Thank God his prognosis was good. The unexpected stroke and her father’s slow recovery struggles had been devastating. But at least the damage hadn’t been as extreme as they’d once feared. He’d had to adjust his life and manage his own expectations about what he was capable of, but he was still here. He even managed to smile more now than he ever had before, appreciating the life he’d almost lost.

“Yes, but I can get that stuff.” He wasn’t listening. Just as stubborn as he was generous. She turned, seeking backup. “Mom, heads-up. He’s trying to—”

“Tad, stop that immediately,” her mother said, stalking around the car. “Halt in the name of Willie Nelson.” She was a tall and strong woman, who had no trouble asserting herself.

“What?” her father asked, annoyance lacing his delivery.

“Kindly drop the bags, sir.” With a pointedly placed hand on her hip, the world knew Martie Ross meant business. Her father deflated and placed the box he held on the cart before stepping back.

“I was just fine. I know my limits,” he said in defense. But his right side didn’t work the way that it used to, weaker and less coordinated now. Excess exertion overwhelmed his system and knocked him out for the entire next day. He was back to work part-time after a good portion of a year at home, building himself back up again through rigorous rehab. He still lost words sometimes, and the doctors thought he likely forever would, but it didn’t matter. Taryn always knew what he meant.

“I’m sure you do, you handsome man,” her mother said. “But I love you so much that I can’t let you get near those limits. We got this, right, Taryn my girl?”

“For sure.”

She had to admit, it felt awkward to have both her parents escort her to her on-campus apartment as an incomingjunior. She wasn’t eighteen and appropriately wide-eyed. Her wide eyes were late to the party, partially her own doing, which accounted for the embarrassment. Her own failure to launch was still a sore subject and a part of her history she didn’t look at too closely. The realization about where she could be right now versus where she was still shocked and shamed her. She had to find a way to set it aside, and maybe that’s what this new leaf would do for her.

“I’ll lead the way!” her mom bellowed.

“Maybe less yelling, though?”

“As you wish,” her mom whispered.

Her parents had quickly voted themselves onto the move-in committee, reorganizing her belongings after she’d already packed them, tossing in various goody boxes in case she got hungry and couldn’t figure out where food was sold, and—her personal favorite—supplying handwritten notes to be opened whenever she felt tested or low. Her parents were well intended, if not aggressive in their mission to protect her from the world. Either way, they both warmed her heart and also made her want to army-crawl under a table and hope no one noticed their attention.

But today was a noteworthy day. Embarrassment be damned. She’d swallow it down and concentrate on all that was ahead of her. Taryn was ready to spread her wings after working so hard her first few semesters in a combination of online and in-person courses. This would be the first time she lived on her own. But rather than allowing fear to overwhelm, she’d embraced the excitement and curiosity that came with this new chapter. In all honesty, it felt like she was finally hitting unpause on her frozen life. There were things she wanted to do in the coming years, relationships she hoped to build, a career she planned to prepare for. She reveled in the idea of finally being a part of something as academic and historical as Hillspoint University. “The first minute of my new existence,” she murmured, following her parents up the sidewalk.

They wheeled her mass of belongings up the ramp in front of Alexander Village, a six-story building of red brick, white trim, and six towering white columns. They’d turned it into a series of small apartments geared to upperclassmen with a qualifying GPA. The building itself had to be over sixty years old at least, partially covered in ivy and surely harboring a few echoes of the past.

“Look at my daughter’s fancy new home.” Her mother pointed at the words Honors College next to the door and ran her fingers across them reverently. Taryn had always succeeded academically but didn’t need it glorified. Especially now.

“Mom, stop. We’re all good here,” Taryn said, as a group of students moved past them in midconversation. Slightly mortifying. She prayed they hadn’t noticed the parental gushing as they pressed on. Within Alexander’s walls, she’d be living in a two-person apartment, sharing a common living room with a roommate, but with her own small room as well. Since she didn’t know a soul at Hillspoint, she’d requested to be paired up. She blinked against the wave of anxiety that nearly made her turn around and head to the car. Stay strongand ride it out. Stay strong and ride it out. Mantras tended to help give her something to hold her focus. When the fear crept in, distraction was key. Somehow in the past two years, she’d watched her confidence wane as she sat by and watched. Now it was time to dig herself out. Somehow.

And here we go. They arrived in front of a tall wooden door and knocked. When there was no answer, she shifted her weight before entering with the key she’d been provided at the front desk. The door opened to what would be her home for the academic year. Wow. Big moment. She was standing in a small living room that felt larger than it should, due to the high ceiling, with a couch and a chair.

“Now this is nice, Tare,” her father said, taking an admiring stroll. “This is really great. You’re gonna like this, Bear.” A nickname from her newborn years she hadn’t managed to shake.

“Yeah, pretty cool,” Taryn said, holding still and taking in the details of the room, wanting to memorize everything. Hers. At least for the year. Green curtains and smoky-white and gray carpet. Definitely some wear showing, but she didn’t care in the slightest. A bolt of exhilaration hit because this was really all happening. Even the couch was identical to the one in the brochure, complete with the same beige and darker beige striped throw pillows. She loved it already.

“The fridge is so spacious,” her mother crowed, examining the interior of the small refrigerator nestled in the corner. “It has a pullout shelf for the milk. You just pull, look, then—milk. Voilà.”

Taryn laughed. “Genius. A moving milk shelf.” That’s when she heard movement coming from behind an open door on the right side of the living room. Her roommate must have already arrived. “I think she’s here,” Taryn said quietly. Had she heard their fascination with the mobile milk shelf? God. Her parents looked at each other in delight, giddy and wide-eyed. This was such a big day for them, so she tried to be patient. She knocked quietly on the connecting door. “Hey,” she said to absolutely no answer. She rolled her lips in, shifted her weight, and banished the stress that arrived on schedule.

No answer.

She paused, unsure what to do. More noise. Finally, she eased the door open the tiniest bit to see a brunette wearing large headphones and standing on her head against the wall. New. Couldn’t say she’d encountered that one before. Taryn stepped halfway into the room. “Hi. Excuse me. So sorry to intrude, um, on the headstand.” She added a back-and-forth wave. The motion seemed to do the trick, and the girl’s brown eyes snapped into focus. “Hi. I’m Tar—”

“Oh shit.” The girl cascaded her feet forward one at a time and righted herself like a proper acrobat. “You’re here.” The headphones hit the floor with a bang. The girl didn’t care. “And I’m hanging upside down like a bat. Great first visual, Caz.”

“Nah, I don’t mind.” Taryn gestured to the wall. “But can I ask about the headstand?”

“Centers me. I’m a weirdo who wears cat ears and stands upside down while listening to some relaxation podcast, but I promise it’s bullshit. The harmless kind. I’m Caz Lee. Did I say that other than to myself?”

“I picked up on it. I’m Taryn Ross. We’re roommates.”

“Super cool. I got your name in the email. This is my third year at Hillspoint, though I have a few hours before official junior status. I like a light load.”

“I get it. I tend to take too many hours. From Indiana?” Her heart was beating way too fast, but she was doing just fine. The smile was real. Keep going.

“Originally from this town an hour from Tokyo, but I’ve been in the States since I was four.”

Taryn was impressed, having not traveled much herself just yet. One day she hoped to grab a backpack, some good shoes, and see it all. If she could just conquer this one small task of college first. “Oh wow.”

Caz tilted her head. “You must be a transfer. I’ve never seen you, and I would definitely remember. That’s a compliment. I like to signpost.”

“Thank you. For both. And, yeah, I’m transferring from Belmont Community, which is just outside Dyer.”

“And do they go with you?” She gestured with her chin to the doorway where Taryn’s parents stood gaping with glee, clutching each other like she’d just won Miss America.

Taryn rocked on her heels and slid her hands into her pockets. “Those enraptured people are my parents, just dying to meet you.”

They took their cue. Her mother stepped forward, dripping with mildly controlled enthusiasm. “What do you study, Caz? I’m Martie Ross, and this is Ted. We’re from Dyer, a few hours away.”

“Pleased make your acquaintance. Stoked, actually.” Caz touched the back of her dark hair, currently in two low-sitting ponytails. “The question you asked is complicated. My dad wants me to stick with academia so I can grow up and be a school principal like he is, but I’m more of a creative free spirit.”

“Amazing,” Taryn said, aiming for rapport, hoping her parents would follow in her very validating footsteps.

“My major is undecided, but I am aware that the clock is ticking.” Caz nodded.

“Just keeping your options open. What do you, uh…create?” her father asked. He’d had to search for the word create. Taryn knew that look, loving but also very practical.

“Currently working with pebbles.”

“I love it,” Taryn said, not fully getting it at all.

“What do you do with them?” her mom asked. “So many options, really.”

“I don’t know just yet, but I’m getting to know them. Soon, I’m hoping to have the direction of my pebble art figured out. It’s still early.”

Her mom nodded like it was the most obvious ever. Bless her. “Caz, I wish you all the luck on your journey. Find all the good pebbles.”

“I’m gonna try,” Caz said very seriously. She turned to Taryn. “I could totally chill with these two. You lucked out.” She was quirky and earnest. Taryn could definitely work with those qualities. “Do you all want to sit down, order some food?”

“No. No. That’s okay. They said they’re gonna stop somewhere on the way home. Gives them a break from driving.” She turned to her parents expectantly, dread gathering in her stomach. It was now or never.

Her mother ignored her. “Should we unpack?”

“No, I got it.” Taryn added a smile. Delaying the good-bye would drag this whole thing out. A second flutter hit as she realized that this was the moment she’d looked forward to and avoided in tandem.

Her parents stared back, not fully understanding that this was the part where they probably needed to say good-bye or risk making her look like a coddled child. She wasn’t. Plus, her goal was to project swagger, independence, and the ultrachill attitude she didn’t quite have on the inside. Yet. The new university her depended on these impressions. Plus, they’d all agreed that her folks would load Taryn in and head home, which would put them back in Dyer before dark, a time neither of them enjoyed driving.

“Oh,” her father said. He tapped her mom’s arm. “We better let these two handle all this.”

“Already?” her mom asked in a semipout. “Okay, okay. I’m stalling because I’m feeling misty. I’m gonna wake up tomorrow, and your bed won’t have been slept in.” A kiss to Taryn’s forehead. “I won’t leave half my bagel in case you want it because you won’t be there.” Another kiss. “You’re not going to join a cult, are you?” A concerned stare with Mom-eyes was cast her way.

“Nope. No plans to. I’ll see you in a few weeks for fall break, remember?” Taryn said. “And I’ll expect that bagel half.”

Her dad placed his good hand on her head and gave it a slow, affectionate shake. She couldn’t crumple here. Not now. She fought the emotion it kindled because it didn’t fit the persona she was shooting for in Caz’s presence. Fuck it. This was her dad. She fell gently into his chest and offered a long squeeze before finally releasing him, tears filling her eyes. He was going to be okay without her. She hoped she would be, too. A deep breath. Her father, specifically, was a quiet, kind support in her life. He was a friend to all, even the insects he escorted politely out of the house, which was why he was so effortlessly good at sales. People trusted the guy, and he did right by them.

“Oh no. I’m not ready for this,” her more dramatic mother proclaimed, opening her arms like they were about to be separated by war. She was the say-whatever-thing-popped-into-her-head kind of parent, which made for some very heartfelt—but tricky—public exchanges. Taryn moved slowly into the hug and allowed her mother to hold on as long as she needed, which, it turned out, was an extraordinarily long amount of time. With a final, final wave, her parents slipped out of the room, leaving her with Caz and an uncomfortable lump in her throat.

“They are so into you,” Caz said, after a long beat of silence. “Like, really. Your mom and the waterworks were battling hard, and she didn’t win.”

“I know,” Taryn replied seriously. “Her emotions brim right beneath the surface until they leap forth. Just her thing.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” A pause. “You’re really lucky. I don’t think I’ve ever misted up over my parents. Or them over me, for that matter.”

“Yeah.” Taryn exhaled, settling in, relieved that Caz saw the value in her family dynamic. “I know I am.”

“Want to go eat? Food always helps me feel better. Baked goods especially. Your bagel thing got me in the mood to carb load.”

She blinked, the non-sequitur rescuing her from her thoughts in a stroke of good timing. “Hell yeah.” She dabbed her cheeks, clearing them of tears, well aware of the wide grin that spread across her face. “I’m actually starving. Carbs would be great.”

“Follow me down four floors.” Caz, a Hillspoint veteran, supplied helpful information as they walked the exteriors. The day was nice and so was the picturesque route to the dining hall. “Fire ants lurk over there in small mounds. Don’t sit in that grass no matter how beautiful it may look. Across the street is better.”

“Noted. Awful ants.”

“Best coffee spot is next to the volleyball gym. Avoid the kiosk in the student center. The baristas suck and own it like bitches. They won’t even try and will laugh about it later.”

“Lazy bitch baristas. Got it.”

“Our RA is named Gray, and he’s more fun than he is helpful. But definitely hit him up to move heavy shit because why not? Free labor and he loves the attention from anything female.”

“Gray the guy who moves heavy shit.”

Caz pointed to what looked to be a dormant intramural field in the distance. “Hot guys congregate over there around four p.m. when most of the classes for the day conclude. Hot girls can be found in front of Avery Hall over there. Not sure yet where your interest lies, so I’m covering my bases.”

“Um. Girls.” Wow. She blinked in shock at the ease with which the words had left her lips. She’d known she was gay for three years now, but Caz was the first person outside of her home that she’d ever informed with words. “I’ve never said that out loud to anyone besides my parents, so I’m taking a moment here.”

“Wait.” Caz stopped walking and turned, a frown on her face. “Never?”

“Nope. Not even a hint until, well, this very moment. It feels…surreal.” She was smiling. The moment was still in progress, but all signs were pointing to it being a good one.

Caz nodded and grinned, as if letting herself record the importance. “I’m more than honored.” She walked on. “So you’ll want to hang over there,” she said, indicating the hot girls gathering spot across the big lawn. The casualness with which she’d moved forward was the best gift Caz could have given her. Something she’d struggled with for a long time had just been noted as just another cool part of her to add to the collection.

Taryn couldn’t stop smiling. Did this mean she was officially out? Everything in her said yes. And in that very instant, the weight of the world was casually shifted right off her shoulders, just like that. The day was sunny, the prospects good.

Admittedly, she’d lived a pretty solitary existence the past two years. Most of her high school friends had headed off to colleges spread out across the country as she sat on the steps in front of the house in Dyer, Indiana, that she’d lived in since birth. A total failure to launch, and feeling every moment of it. While her peers were away, she’d quietly gone to classes, helped with dinner, driven her father to appointments, and ended each night studying alone in her room, sometimes falling asleep at her laptop. Her grades, as a result of her less than full social scene, had skyrocketed. Any kind of romantic prospects, however, had withered a slow death.

Everything at Hillspoint felt noticeably different. This place, this blossoming campus with intelligent people around every corner, made her want to crawl right out of her shell and introduce herself, something her second-guessing would have shut down immediately just months ago.

Taryn shimmied as a tingle slid up her spine. Flurries of anticipation floated over every inch of her. She had a distinct feeling this year was about to change absolutely everything, and in many ways, she wished she could fast-forward her own story just to see how it all turned out. She hoped her ending was a happy one.

* * *

The semester hadn’t started yet, but Charlotte Adler could already anticipate the size of the workload about to rain down on her. Within two weeks, she’d likely be saddled with over a hundred pages of reading, a research project, and forty intro essays to grade as a grad instructor. In her third and final year in pursuit of her MFA, she’d come to know what to expect from a Hillspoint semester.

And this was easily the calm before the storm.

It was nice to be back, though, inhaling the cool autumn air and seeing the friends she loved. Given that this was her last year, she planned to soak up every minute of academic life, even though the rigorous program would have her regretting that plan soon enough. She was certainly writing more than ever, thanks to the summer stipend the program provided, which had given her space to buckle down and focus on her work for three months, rather than having to take a full-time job. Having a strong work ethic, she’d still picked up the occasional nanny gig through the high end agency that made it well worth her time.

As Charlie crossed the quad in front of Old Main, she spotted Danny McHenry, her boyfriend of the past three years, with one sneaker-clad foot on a bench, standing with his best friend, Lawson, and another mutual classmate, Emerson, who screamed her name and beckoned her over like a cheerleader at a Saturday night game.

“Charlie! Whoop! Get over here right now!” Emerson was sweet as could be but definitely grated when she leaned into hyperbolic affirmations, and when did she not? She also tended to glorify Danny and his famous mom on a regular basis. Perhaps a crush? Not that Charlie minded. She was secure in their relationship, which she would describe as mature and comfortable, given that they’d known each other since childhood. Danny’s mom and hers had been best friends for decades before Charlie’s mom had sadly passed, three and a half years prior. Sadness still nestled in her chest over the loss. It still felt like yesterday and hurt just as potently.

“Well, look who finally decided to grace us with her presence,” Danny said playfully. His sandy brown hair fell across his forehead in that I-didn’t-do-my-hair-but-it-looks-good kind of way. In that moment, she smiled and they locked eyes. She’d been nervous about this part, having anticipated their reunion all day. They’d spent most of the summer apart because Danny had been accepted into a prestigious writing colony in Tennessee that he simply couldn’t pass up. This was actually the first time she’d seen him in six weeks, and she wondered how reentry might feel. He broke into a huge smile as she approached, and that little gesture made everything in her exhale. It meant they were okay, still them, in their warm, compatible way.

“Hi,” she said and easily moved into his open arms. She relaxed into comfort and familiarity. Danny was not just her boyfriend but family, and always had been.

“My girl.” They shared a sweet kiss as their friends looked on. It was good to see Danny, like her favorite blanket back around her shoulders. They’d texted daily, and she’d listened to him rave on about his experience at the writing retreat and the prestige associated with it, while wishing desperately she’d been accepted as well. Danny was at the top of the ladder at Hillspoint, so he’d received their department’s top recommendation to the summer program. He’d been the only one of their group to receive admittance, which left Charlie disappointed but happy for Danny. Having a best-selling author for a mother certainly added wattage to his spotlight, but that was just part of life. “Weird being back here, huh?”

She shrugged. “I’m kind of excited, myself. But then again, I didn’t have to give up a fancy writing existence.”

“The scenery alone was immensely inspiring. I don’t know how I’m going to manage back in a classroom environment after that.” He probably didn’t mean to elevate himself and make the rest of them look basic, but he certainly had the tendency, a fault she’d excused many times. Daniel McHenry wasn’t a pompous human, but sometimes he didn’t hear how he sounded. Though they’d known each other for years, here at school, he was also a fellow MFA candidate in Charlie’s creative writing program, meaning they would have at least two of three sections together. That meant that soon they’d be elbows deep critiquing each other’s work, debating the week’s reading assignment, and generally up close and personal in each other’s faces. The arrangement could definitely strain even the strongest of relationships, but so far, they’d done their best to navigate the stresses. Maintaining their own apartments had been a purposeful decision to give them time apart when they needed it.

This year was going to be an important one. They’d be planning for life after grad school and not just professionally. Would there be a proposal, or would they simply get a place together after graduation? She harnessed the hope as fuel, and with a deep fortifying breath made the choice to relish every moment of her last year on the campus she’d grown to love.

Emerson, who’d become a necessary annoyance after years in the trenches together, hopped like a happy chick about to be fed. “Getting the band back together now.” She brought her shoulders to her ears and beamed. “Our resident couple reunited. Goals, man. Wistful sigh in action.” She demonstrated.

Danny kissed Charlie’s head. “Missed you.”

“Same,” she said with a smile. Their time together was laced with laughter, interesting conversation, and a lot of her feeling like she sometimes let him down. Their passion meter was a little on the average side, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t tons of time to work on that aspect of the relationship. They had bigger things to focus on in the here and now. Sex, passion, and fun in the bedroom were fairly low on her list, but they were capable adults who’d get there in time. Their plates were full. That was all.

Charlie turned to Emerson with a grin and opened her arms. The petite redhead had always reminded Charlie of a yappy Yorkshire terrier, adorable yet tiring, prone to mischief and unwarranted positivity. She practically leapt into Charlie’s arms. “And here I come, ready to strum bass.”

“Totally not the bass player,” Lawson said, his dark eyebrows drawn into a V. He was Danny’s best friend and biggest cheerleader, always there to hype him up in class. A mediocre writer himself, but his confidence seemed to get him places. “You’re on vocals, Em. I’m bass. Danny’s guitar, and Charlie’s drums.” He stared at them in shocked judgment like there would be little question as to those assignments.

They collectively paused and regarded him.

“You’ve really put some time into that,” Charlie said.

He shrugged and slung an arm around her shoulder. “Start warming up those hands. I’m guessing you’re with us in Rhetoric and Comp in five.”

“That’s my understanding.”

“Third year. Let’s go!” Emerson cheered, striking an actual cheerleader pose. There was no universe in which she wasn’t on the squad in high school.

The four of them, along with a small handful of other classmates, moved through the program together, withering beneath the brutal workload and leaning on each other for support. They each brought their unique personalities and writing styles to the table, which made for an interesting time. Their ninety-minute classes were often tense and ended on a less than comfortable note. When viewpoints were expressed, feelings were sometimes hurt. But in the end, when all was said and the writing shelved, they respected and admired each other. Gathering at Toby the Tiger’s after an especially trying day was not uncommon. Beer was on whoever had been the biggest asshole during critiques.

“Why do you call your place Toby the Tiger?” Charlie had once asked the owner, regularly referred to as He-Man, one night from across the bar. “Isn’t the common reference Tony?”

“Tony serves people cereal. Toby serves bourbon,” he’d stated gruffly. She’d spotted a mermaid tattoo next to an anchor and wondered if he’d served in the Navy.

“Is that your real name? Toby,” she’d asked, basking in her buzz.

“Hell no. I’m Brett, Crusher of Beers, Breaker of Hearts. Cheers to the revolution.”

“Cheers,” she said obediently. Brett was a force. Toby remained a phantom.

Regardless of the naming mystery, Charlie had grown to love the small college dive bar comprising dim lighting and too much wood to be fashionable. Maybe they’d even hit it up this week where they could haunt the dartboard and discuss why their instructors lived to torture them.

“Are we walking?” Emerson asked the group, indicating the Saunders Building, fifty yards away. They turned and stared up at the familiar structure in silence, probably all realizing that this was the last carefree moment they’d have before the brutality of third year hit them like a wrecking ball to the chest.

“Now or never,” Charlie said, leading the way up the eight steps they’d all trod many times in the past. She’d logged more time in this building than she cared to count, but she’d also written some very important words that she was proud of. It evened out.

“Hey,” she said to Danny once they were settled across from each other around the small conference room table that would serve as their classroom. It was something they often said to each other, a shorthand and way of semiflirting.

“Hey back,” he said, glancing at the table and back up. It felt like a stumble, their rhythm off. They just needed time to find their footing. That was all.

“Here goes everything,” Lawson said and stuffed his backward ball cap into his satchel.

Emerson tapped the table. “I have a feeling that this year is going to be the best one yet,” she said.

“It better be,” Charlie countered. “It’s all we have left.”

“Onward literary soldiers!” Lawson said too loudly for the small room. “Grab thy pen and use it as a sword.”

Emerson seemed to like the battle cry and tossed a fist in the air. Charlie and Danny exchanged an amused look. The year held promise, and Charlie was ready to explore exactly what that might mean. She had a future looming after grad school, and she wanted to take every opportunity to prepare for a career as a successful writer, someone who made a difference in this world with her words.

“You ready?” Danny asked her quietly.

“I think I actually am.”