Merry Mischief
This Christmas, love and mischief are the ultimate gifts.
I watched Isabella sling her backpack over her shoulders, her suitcase in tow. Her smile—gentle but eager—tightened something in my chest. “All ready?” I asked, my voice unsteady. “Not until you give me a hug.” She stepped closer, the familiar scent of rose, cinnamon, and clove enveloping me. I hugged her, clinging to the faint warmth of her through her thick winter jacket. I wanted to tell her to stay, but instead, I let...