"It is you," Penelope breathed.
"It is me," Zagan whispered back.
All of the emotions that she had stored away for so long—of missing him so desperately that it felt like a hole had been carved out in the middle of her deepest being—came flooding to the surface, and she grabbed hold of him, burying herself into his chest. It was him. It was really him. Her body instantly recognized his, like they were two halves to a severed whole that effortlessly clicked back into place.
Goosebumps skittered across her flesh at the realization that she had just been praying for this. She had just been praying for him, and he appeared out of nowhere.
"How did you get here?" She gasped, looking around at the room. No one else was around.
