Jeez, the last time I wrote was July? I really need to get with the times…

Disclaimer: I’m not Jo. Get it. Got it? Good.

Those three meek, unhelpful words made her want to scream piercingly at the top of her lungs. They made her want to tear out her knotted ginger locks in fury. They made her want to violently hex everything in range.

They made her want to die.

Die: just as he had.

It had always been okay. Despite all the near-death experiences her family had boldly fought through, they’d always come out okay. Bloodied? Yes. Bruised? Yes. But also okay.

Though her delirious mother repeated these words over and over, almost convincing herself rather than her daughter, Ginny knew that it would never again truly be okay.