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“You have to.” She wipes at her tears, but more keep falling. “It’s all my fault.” She bursts into tears, and I scoop her up and hold her as she cries.
“No, shhh.” I kiss her tears away. “It’s not your fault. I won’t leave you and Sylvester.”
“Oh, Sylvester is already at the North Pole,” Cinnamon says brightly. “Cats are inherently magical and always welcome at the Pole, so we took the liberty of—”
“You stole my cat?” I grit my teeth.
“He’s having a great time. You’ll see when you get there.”
“For the last time, I’m not—”
“Mac.” She says my name so softly I almost miss it. But I don’t, because I hang on every word from her lips.
“Lil bit?”
Her eyes are still watery as she kicks her feet, telling me to put her down.
I do.
“Go.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “You have to go.”
“No.” I reach for her, but she steps back.
“Mac, I’m serious. Leave.” Her eyes harden. “Go with Cinnamon Stick. I’ve already killed Santa. I’m not going to ruin Christmas for innocent children. You have to be Santa.”
“Lil bit, please.” My heart constricts even more, and that call to a distant, snowy land grows louder in my mind.
“I have to let you go.” She takes another step away from me, and when I try to go to her, she shakes her head. “Go. Get out.”
“I’m not leaving without you.”
“Yes, you are.” Her chin wobbles, but again she moves away from me.
“Lil bit.” I can feel myself falling apart on the inside, my heart sinking and ripping to shreds. “Please don’t do this.”
“Go!” She shouts and turns away. “Get out of my house.”
“There has to be another way to—”
“There’s not!” She straightens her spine. “Get out. Now. Go to the North Pole. Be Santa. If you don’t give the world the magic it needs at Christmas, I never want to see you again. Now go!”
It’s as if she struck me. The heft of her words is like a fist to my gut.
“I’ll be, um … outside …” Cinnamon backs onto the porch.
“I mean it, Mac. Go or I’ll never forgive you.”
I reach for her and rest my hand on her shoulder.
She shrugs me off. “Get. Out.”
I let my hand drop and stare at her, desperate for her to turn around, to tell me she wants me to stay.
But she doesn’t. Not even when I walk onto the porch as the snow falls heavy and thick. My heart is destroyed, but I won’t ignore her wishes. I’d do anything if it meant I got to see her again, to hold her.
“It’s the right call,” Cinnamon says softly.
I glare down at him. “Let’s go.”
