“And the winner of the William Faulkner Award for Best Novel of the Year goes to Maya Reardon, author of ‘Swan Song.'”
James leaned over and kissed her cheek, and she stood, using his shoulder to stay steady. She wanted to pinch herself, to make sure she wasn't dreaming, to convince her that this really was her life.
She moved toward the stage, smiling at the white-haired man who handed her the certificate, turning her eyes back out to the applauding crowd. She saw him standing there, his eyes bright-the man who knew everything about her there was to know, and who loved her still.
“This is for my husband, James,” Maya said into the microphone. “Without him, I never would have known that fairy tales sometimes really do come true.”