Page 159 of Return Policy

“There’s our two little elves,” Dad says the second we walk through the front door, cinnamon and vanilla hitting my senses immediately.

“It smells like Santa’s workshop in here,” I say as my mouth salivates.

“Diane made cookies.”

“I’m still working off the ten pounds I gained the last time I was here,” Elijah teases.

“They just came out of the oven, so help yourselves,” Diane tells us, smiling as we come into the kitchen. “Hey, Sophia.” She pulls me in for a tight hug, and I melt into her. She has flour in her hair and smells like Christmas morning.

“Hi, Di.”

Elijah and Dad are whispering about something, but I choose not to get in the middle of their bonding.

“Why don’t you go put your stuff in your room before we eat dinner,” Dad suggests.

“Okay, sounds good.”

Elijah picks up my bag and follows me up the stairs. We pass Chloe’s door and I pause, frowning at the craft room.

“Come on, babe,” Elijah says softly, ushering me along. We continue to my room, and I push open the door, freezing in the frame.

“What—” I whisper as my skin prickles. “What is this?” Elijah places his hands on my shoulders, nudging me closer to the redecorated corner of my room.

Chloe’s pink upholstered chair is angled in the corner, with a pink-and-white striped blanket folded neatly on the arm. There’s a side table with a familiar porcelain bowl on top. Slowly, I make my way over and pick up the bowl, flipping it over. On the bottom are the words “Lovebug–Scaredybug–Ladybug” painted on.

A ragged breath releases as my eyes blur. I rub at them before taking in the rest of the new space. A painting hangs on the wall of a girl holding a child, readingAlice in Wonderland. It’s a perfect depiction of Chloe and me when I was younger, and Leah’s signature is small in the corner.

Happiness—sadness—nostalgia—grief—every emotion slams into me at once, forcing tears to spill out of my eyes as they memorize the space.

Elijah squeezes my shoulders and kisses me on the side of my head before placing my sketch pad and pencils on the side table. “I’ll give you a few minutes, okay? Come downstairs when you’re ready.”

“Mm-hmm.”

He leaves the room, footsteps echoing down the wooden staircase.

I can’t believe Dad did this.

I bend down, inspecting the feet of the pink chair. A large scratch runs the length of the left front leg.Yep, this is it.

Spinning around, I fall back, sinking into the cushion, and throw the blanket over me. A heavy breath escapes my lungs as I pick up my sketchbook.

I’mhome.

46

ELIJAH

“If you add any more frosting, you’ll need a spoon,” Diane says, laughing as I attempt, and fail, to frost a candy cane shaped sugar cookie.

I point the pastry bag with red frosting towards her. “I never promised to be a decorating expert.”

“Don’t worry. You’ll get the hang of it. It only took Will three dozen cookies to figure it out.”

Will narrows his eyes at her and strides over to kiss her. “I’m a paramedic, not a surgeon, babe.”

Footsteps creak on the staircase, and Sophia comes into the kitchen. Her face is red and blotchy, but she’s smiling. I wanted to stay in her room and hold her, but I knew she needed a bit of time to herself. She goes over to her dad and Diane, pulling them both in for a hug. “Thanks, guys.”

My heart swells as I see how relieved she is to have her special place back.

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