Excerpt:

Prologue
I never thought I would ever come back here. When I left, I figured that there was nothing that could ever induce me to return. My heart had been ripped into a million pieces and stomped into the dust. Everyone I had ever cared about had turned away from me. I had nothing left. I had no one left. The last few months I had spent here, I was totally alone. I don’t think I spoke more than a handful of words at any one time.
So I made the decision to leave.
I never intended to return.
But you know what they say about the best laid plans of mice and men…
And that battle plans never last past the first encounter with the enemy.
I should have remembered that one. It seems like any plans I make for my future tend to get negated. I really should have known better.
As I looked around at the familiar street, the familiar buildings, I realized that I am nothing like the scared, lonely, depressed girl I was when I left. I was so broken up inside when I left, that I tried not to think about this place after I left. I thought I was going to be desperately homesick, but it turned out that those weeks of loneliness were helpful in that there was nothing to miss. Now I think back on those times with barely a pang. While it was painful at the time, if the events of that year had not occurred, I would never have left. I would never have had my current life. And I love what I do.
I love the people with whom I work.
The fact is: I wouldn’t trade my life for anything. Not even to avoid the heartbreak I felt as a teenager. In a way that was for the best.
But, standing here, on this street, in front of this house, I couldn’t help but revert slightly, mentally becoming the girl I was when I left here. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath.
I opened them when I felt a hand on my shoulder, squeezing slightly, reassuring, and turned my head slightly to the right to look at the face to which the hand was attached. “Relax. You can do this. We’re with you.” That was all that was said, but that was all that was necessary. With them at my back, I knew who I was. And I was not going to be intimidated by what I would face on the inside of that house.
I squared my shoulders and threw a smile behind me at the people standing there. While not blood, they had become my family in the years I had known them. Whoever said you can’t choose your family was wrong. I chose them and they chose me.
“Let’s go,” I told them, grinning humorlessly. “It is time to interact with the natives.”
Before I could talk myself out of it, I took another fortifying breath and walked up the sidewalk to the porch, knowing that I was being followed without even having to look. Then, I reached out a hand (trying to convince myself that it was not trembling) and knocked on the door, sounding more confident than I really felt.
We didn’t have to wait long. Barely a minute later, the door was opened.