It was time for gifts, so the foster father sat Liz down on the couch in the living room while Zywa carried her gift from her room and the mother brought hers from the bedroom. Three boxes of various sizes lay on the stolik (coffee table), all wrapped in gift paper of different colors and patterns.

  Liz opened the biggest box first. The present from her foster father. She didn’t rip the wrappings. She carefully undid them. She knew it must have cost them a fortune to buy these things, and the wrapping itself was also expensive. They weren’t really poor, but they weren’t rich either. Most of the money came from Zywa’s high position in the guild. Then again, who was rich in a time of such an existential crisis?

  Inside was a gorgeous blue cocktail dress decorated with wavy ornaments and floral patterns. The dress was the dream of any teenage girl who wanted to impress all her friends.

  Any girl but Liz.

  She hated all that girlish stuff, and the only things she wanted were things a demon hunter could use. She laid the dress on the couch beside her.

  She picked up her second present from the table. It was a small but long box that looked fancy once unwrapped. Inside was a gold chain with a pendant: the symbol of an owl, their house crest. The mother was so excited to finally give it to her, but Liz was terrified. Everything inside her sank like a rock in water. Her hands were shaking, and the world seemed to slow down. How could she even suggest that? It was the only thing left from her real mom. She felt a fire ignite inside her. The pure anger she’d tried to suppress for years was rising to the surface.

  “I hope you like it. Now you can wear it instead of your old necklace.”

  It was too much to take in. Liz was about to burst when Zywa, with her face as pale as death, signaled to her mom to shut up. The mother’s body tensed. She frowned, irritation flickering across her face as if to say, What did I do wrong this time? Then Zywa pushed her present toward Liz, offering her a way out. Liz let it slide. One last time.

  The third present she opened was from Zywa. It was smaller than the first box but bigger than the second, and it looked like a shoe box. Inside, however, was something very different: a camouflage, moon-shaped crossbody bag designed for hunters. Liz was so excited that she jumped from the couch and hugged Zywa as hard as she could.

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  Soon after, they all went off to do their own things, and Liz was finally ready to leave the house.

  “Have fun with your friends!”

  “I will,” Liz promised, and quickly stepped through the doorway.

  The truth was, she had no friends. The only person anyone might mistake for a friend was Zywa. She was one of the most important hunters and rarely had time even for herself, let alone Liz. Liz liked her, but she couldn’t honestly say they were that close. And, as always, Zywa was busy at the hunters’ guild, so she’d left right after giving Liz her gift and wishing her a happy birthday. Liz had lied about having plans with friends so she could leave without worrying them.

  She took her new little bag, stuffed with all the things she thought she needed to carry every day, and headed to her favorite place. As always, alone.

  On her way to her hideout, she walked along familiar streets, reminiscing about growing up here. She felt strange. So many years had passed, yet she still couldn’t call this place home. Still, she was grateful to live here and not have to worry about surviving alone in a world where humans were an endangered species.

  Gliding through the suburban area, she lost herself in thought until she reached the end of the quarter, where the city began to blend into the woods.

  She stepped into the forest and quickly found her safe space: Ve.

  Ve was a makeshift fort she had built over the years. It was filled with pillows and quilts and even had a small table and a well-worn wooden chair. All the books she had collected were stacked on a shelf that lay on the floor because the walls weren’t strong enough to hold them.

  How lucky was I that no stupid kid destroyed it all these years?

  Liz wasn’t sure if she had come to say goodbye to the place or to her childhood. Either way, she knew she wouldn’t be able to visit much longer, and if she ever wanted to come back, her luck might already have run out. Everything had to change. No—she wanted everything to change.

  The table was layered with dust, so she pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped it clean. Her bag was heavy with a small cake and the candles she’d bought on her way. She placed the candles on the cake and lit them with a match.

  It was time for her real birthday party. Just her, like every year. Very soon, she wouldn’t need to pretend she was happy here. No more fake friends, no more fake family, and no more fake Liz.

  She thought for a long time about what to wish for. Then it struck her. How could I not think of that before? She drew in a lungful of air and blew out her candles.

  While she was munching on her delicious chocolate cake, she decided on a whim to burn the place down. She wanted to remove any place she could retreat to until she finished her job. She couldn’t go back. She couldn’t have a home. Not yet.

  Not until she killed the demon king.

  A short, sharp scratching sound pierced the forest as Liz struck a match. A sudden fwoosh followed as flames caught on the wooden structure. Her eyes were wet, and her heart beat in the rhythm of liberation.

  The fire danced so beautifully—so bright, so alive, so unlike her life. She cried as she watched her past burn with the little house, clearing a path into her future.