✓ | The Crown of the Dead

Over the River and Through the Woods

With traffic, my half an hour guess for how far we were was elongated to a full hour... including the previous half. I was the only one guiding Charlie now, not a gps, and I may or may have not gotten lost once or twice.

"Is your Grandma's house big, or is it tiny?" Luke asked.

"Is it your business?"

"Yeah, kind of."

"No, not really."

"It's small then, isn't it? Like on 'tiny houses?'"

"So what if it were small," I argued. "And it isn't even. It's big."

"Is it massive?"

"Size is relative. I can think of a few things you may think are large, but the world surely does not."

"Is it massive?"

"Is your p—"

"Alright!" Blake shouted. "That's enough of that!"

I gasped in surprise, and Charlie jumped.

"What?" She yelped. "What is it? Is there an animal?!"

"Turn!" I shouted. "There, right there!"

Charlie yanked on the steering wheel, and my body slammed against the door. We barely made it around the bend.

"This is it," I said quietly. "This is the street."

My stomach erupted in butterflies. Papa used to call butterflies 'skeletal butterflies,' but I never knew why. I was to young to think to ask.

I hadn't seen Gramma in a little over a year. I'd been busy, and Aunt Piper could never find the time to send me. She was never quite comfortable with me going alone, and so when I was living with her, it was always Gramma that came to me.

It should've been her, I thought suddenly. It should've been Gramma. Not Piper or that Reyna girl. My own Grandmother.

I felt myself agreeing.

"There don't seem to be any houses on this street..." Charlie said carefully. "It's all trees and empty fields?"

"Keep driving," I instructed. "It's a little ways down."

"It's a shack," Luke stated.

"It's not a shack."

"It's a shack."

"Someone stab him in the gut for me, please?" I turned around to face everyone in the back seat, flashing a smile while doing so.

"So moody."

"You're one to talk."

"Oh my gosh!"

Essie's voice took me off guard, and my head twisted towards Charlie's window. That was the side the house would be on. That was the side of the road my grandmother lived. I'd driven and walked down this path dozens of times, so of course I'd know it when I saw it.

And there it was, towering over the road like it had always been.

We were here. We'd actually traveled all the way here in two days. How?! How had we managed?!

"That's... definitely not a shack," Luke said in awe, his mouth agape.

"Be thankful for what you have," I instructed a bit too cheerily. "Even if it was, we'd still have a place to sleep. This is just... luxury living."

I was aware that my grandmother lived largely. My family was more than lucky growing up. We had a nice house with enough rooms for the three of us (plus a spare), and it was all we'd ever needed.