iller
ies. She didn't call it a curse or
er potter's wheel. "We see the patterns. When we love, our love builds thin
ho created things from their soul. We built homes that felt like sanctuaries and gardens that healed the grieving. My
with his drive, his energy that was so different from the quiet introspection of my family. I chose his world. I poured my love, m
and where we would build our first home. I had
ed, holding me close. "A place where the world
ten. A promise he had burned to th
ll weight of my grandmother's words. The balance had been broken
zed again. I
is destroyed. He is not the man
n," I said, my voice flat. "
. "We must arrange the funeral. Please, don't leav
me tethered to their collapsing world. He was afraid. Not just
in my mind with crystalline clarity. "Ethan was a Miller. He will
t burial in the cold, hard ground. It was about release.
hen I am taking him home. To the coast. Where m
k. Not for me. For Ethan. His favorite worn sketchbook. The small clay bird he made for me when he was
I was getting it as far away from the poison of the Stone family as I possibly could. The curse Arthur spoke of wasn't so