Jasper Pov
Moments.
Life is measured in moments. If that’s true, how would I measure my life? Would I measure it from the moment I was born, to the day I died? Would I measure it by my first memory, the memory of my mother with a tired face, her eyes filled with love and happiness as she sang me a song, rocking me softly in her arms as she tried to help me fall to sleep? Would I measure it by the times Kalia took me away from my parents, the soft look in my mom’s face hardening, before turning into coldness? The times Kalia and her husband would play with me, keep me company, and tuck me in? Or the time I learned what my parents had in store for me, and I ran away? When I hid in Kalia’s cellar, and sat there in the cold dark, shivering in fear as I rocked myself to sleep night a
