For Jen, who saw the beauty in the bones

Thanks to Laura Bradford, my shiny agent, who never tells me an idea is terrible. I also doff my hat to Anne Sowards, Kat Sherbo, and the Penguin team. (I don’t actually wear hats, but it’s an awesome image, right? Thought so.)

Jen, Bree, Lauren…and the PoP loop, of course. You’re my go-to crew. You never let me down. *fist bump*

Next, there’s my family. I love you guys so much. Thanks for everything. I feel like there are no words, which sucks, considering what I do for a living. Just know that every pot of veggie chili is chock-full of love. And beans.

Thumbs up to my fabulous proofreaders, Fedora Chen and Katy Sprinkel, and to my copy editor, Jan McInroy, who a did a terrific job on this book.

Finally, I thank caffeine, liquor, and chocolate—without which none of this would be possible.

And as always, I offer utmost appreciation to my readers. Y’all rock. Please keep writing; that’s ann.aguirre@gmail.com. I love hearing from you.

I carried the last of Chance’s boxes up to the flat.

Mexico agreed with my ex, physically speaking. The constant sun was similar to Florida, though the weather was milder and more temperate in the mountains, the humidity lower, and so his skin glowed golden, a fine contrast to his inky hair. His features were sharp, feline, but sculpted in a way that you could stare for hours and never tire of marveling at the cut of his cheekbones or the curve of his mouth.

Looking at his impossible beauty, I was reminded again that he wasn’t human. He didn’t sweat or grow facial hair. Once I’d written that off as a unique genetic boon, but it was unquestionably more. While his mother, Min, was human, I was positive his father had been something else. I had no idea what.