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