Antoinette kight sarcy book

Previously

…Sacry laughed, a shaky but beautiful sound. “I’d like that very much.” As they helped each other to their feet, Antoinette glanced at her mother, who gave a subtle, almost imperceptible nod. The scarf of doom, which had been draped over her shoulder, now seemed to be weaving itself into a pattern of quiet contentment. The knitting metaphors, it seemed, were finally resolving into a happy ending. And Antoinette, for the first time in a long time, didn’t feel the need to dramatically pronounce it. She just felt it.