Book Eleven: Light and Shadow
I grinned at the enthusiastic, if off-key, rendition of "Happy Birthday" and added my own pathetically energetic voice. Twenty or so young witches, all about the same age as the birthday girl, sat around her as she gazed with wide, happy eyes at the candles on her impressive cake.
Mom may have been distant and a little cold the last six months, but she went all out for Meira's eleventh birthday. Guilt driven? Maybe. Still, I found it hard to stay mad at her no matter how little time she seemed to have for either Meira or me these days.
My heart ached every time I thought of Dad.