My heart stutters and I curse the stupid bird as he flaps his wings from his perch on the windowsill. His beady orange eyes look almost red as they watch me, and I have no doubt he’s wondering the same thing I am.

Where’s Audra?

That’s when I notice the bubble of winds floating in the corner.

Her trace is laced through every draft, and something dark hovers in the center. My stomach knots.

I step closer, telling myself it isn’t what I think it is. But I can see the gold buttons glinting through the rushing air.

Maybe this is some elaborate Windwalker striptease, I try to convince myself as I reach through the winds to grab the jacket. But I can feel everything inside me sink as the winds uncoil and brush my face. They whisper the three words she left me as a message.

Be. Home. Soon.

I know her too well to miss her meaning. Especially since I can still feel her pull in the wind. Slipping farther west with every second.

I fling the jacket across the room.

How could she leave without saying goodbye? Without letting me beg her to stay?

Pain shoots through my hand as I punch the wall, but it’s easier to take than the empty ache tearing me apart.

I sink to the floor as Gavin flies to a nearby tree—away from the crazy boy freaking out.

“Why would she leave?” I ask the night, the wind, the stupid bird.

Nobody answers.

Then my eyes wander to the crumpled pile of leaves—the bed she’s slept in for ten years. I inhale the sticky, dusty air she’s sweat in every day while I relaxed in my air-conditioned bedroom.

She’s made nothing but sacrifices for me. Can I blame her for needing a break from it all? Even from me?

I can. But I’ll try to understand.

Plus, she left me a promise.

Be home soon.

She’s coming back. Soon.

I touch her trace in the air, drawing comfort from the gentle tugging in the pit of my stomach. She’s tethered to me. Permanently connected. It won’t be hard to find her if I want to track her down.

But I’ll wait.

And hey—at least I’m not the only one she left behind.

I glare at her dumb bird and he glares back at me. At least she ditched him, too. Though, now I’m stuck with her annoying pet.

Gavin flaps and screeches, like he’s thinking the same thing.

I roll my eyes.

Then I call a passing Westerly and add my own words to its song. I tie the draft to her trace and send the wind away, letting it reach her at its own pace.

I’ll miss you.

I’ve waited ten years for her.

I’ll wait as long as it takes.

I hope she finds what she’s looking for. Until she does, I’ll be here. Alone, under the calm sky. Waiting for the wind to return.