“Seriously, Azra? That’s what you’re going to have to do? You’re going to have to … have to … kill them? You’re going to have to kill Nate? That way the family will be together again?”
I picture myself in Nate’s shoes, people consoling me because my mother is gone. I hear Henry’s thoughts. Don’t worry about me, Azra. You can’t do this. Whatever happens to me, happens to me. But you can’t do this. It will destroy you.
Henry, always thinking about me, first and foremost. Not a single thought as to his own safety. As to what might happen to him if I don’t grant Megan’s wish.
And so if that were really her wish, her deepest desire, I’d … I’d do it. Fortunately, my mother taught me well. While connecting with Megan’s anima, I didn’t stop there. I kept going, delving deeper, until I uncovered her true wish.
“Yes,” I say, pushing my heels into the soft ground and starting to rock myself gently, “that’s what I’d have to do. If that were truly her wish.”
Henry’s puzzled eyes stare into mine as he settles himself on the swing next to me.
Swallowing hard, I use my powers to give him a push. Just one. The soft breeze of his swinging sweeps the hair off my shoulder.
My voice is calm, steady. “But the real reason she wants her family back together is because she doesn’t want to see the pain in Nate’s eyes anymore. That’s her true wish.”
It’s not that granting this wish is easy. It’s not that granting this wish is without risk. It’s difficult. It’s risky. But as I needed to make sure Henry understood so he’d be onboard, it’s certainly better than the alternative.
I wiggle my heels out of the dirt and use my magic to swing higher.
Yes, if I do it, I may hurt, maybe even lose, someone I hold dear, but if I don’t, I will lose even more. Life, after all, is compromise. If becoming Jinn has taught me anything, it’s taught me that.
Up and up.
Higher and higher.
Until I’m flying.
And so there’s only one thing I can do to grant Megan’s wish. My mother’s done it, with varying degrees of success. Fortunately, I have something my model Jinn mother lacks.
Afrit blood.
Using my magic, I slow my swing, bringing it to a gentle stop. I look past Henry at the Reese’s house.
“I’m going to have to erase memories. I’m going to have to use mind control on her,” I say. “On them both. Make them feel their family is perfectly whole as it is.”
See, when genies are involved, there’s always a trick.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Behind every book and every writer is a pom-pom–wielding cheerleader. As time goes on, if you’re lucky, you may look over your shoulder and realize you’ve gathered an entire high-ponytailed squad.
Turns out, I have been very lucky. My squad begins with my agent, Lucy Carson of the Friedrich Agency, whose editorial instincts turned Becoming Jinn into the book you are now holding. Thank you for supporting my voice and vision, for assuaging my fears and anxieties, and for somehow finding enough hours in the day to answer my every question. Thanks as well to the Friedrich Agency’s Nichole LeFebvre, who has cheered Azra on since day one.
I am especially grateful to Jean Feiwel for her belief in this series, and to my editor, Liz Szabla, for asking the questions that pushed me to dig deeper. This book and these characters exist because of you. Thank you to the entire Feiwel and Friends/Macmillan team who work so hard and who have been gracious enough to give me and my book a most welcoming home.
Thanks to my beta readers, all incredible authors in their own right, who are masters at knowing when to say “rah, rah” and when to say “nuh-uh.” My early readers, Georgia Clark and Aubrey Cann, helped shaped Azra and the Jinn world, and my later readers, Jen Malone and Chelsea Bobulski, helped fine-tune it. Thank you, Jen, for having a wealth of knowledge (seriously, how do you know so much?) and for being so willing to share it. And Chelsea, I could (and one day plan to) wallpaper a room with your beautiful, encouraging words. What can I say except you, my dear, are most definitely my sister. Finally, thank you doesn’t seem to encompass what I need to say to N. K. Traver, the kindhearted, enthusiastic cyber-stalker who demanded to read my book and then did so in one day. You made me believe, Nat. I am forever in your debt.
Thanks to my fellow 2015 YA debut authors, the Freshman Fifteens, for all of your support and friendship. And don’t forget your promise to slip on harem pants, ladies.
A special thanks to Anna Banks, whose generosity, guidance, and friendship are only surpassed by her ability to make me laugh.
Thanks to all the friends who have supported me (and refrained from telling me to can it with the book talk already) and to my family, the Montemurros and the Goldsteins, whose enthusiasm often surpasses mine. Thank you, Martha, for reading, listening, and cheering me on. Thank you, Dad, for always reading to me, turning the pages before I was able to do so myself. Thank you, Mom, for faking it so well, and reading every school essay with a red pen in hand to push me to do better.
That’s one impressive squad, but I wouldn’t have any of them if it weren’t for the team captain, my husband, Marc. The day he told me to write changed my life. Every step of this journey we’ve taken together. Thank you for telling me “there’s something here” and for not letting me give up. Thank you for reading revision after revision until you could recite my words by heart. Thank you for every Saturday night plotting session. Thank you for laughing where I hoped you would, and crying where I knew you would. Unlike me, you always knew this day would come. Thank you, my soul mate, my best friend, for being right—for once. Now, don’t let it go to your head.
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Lori Goldstein was born into an Italian-Irish family and raised in a small town on the New Jersey shore. A former journalist, she currently lives in Cambridge, Massachusetts, with her husband. Becoming Jinn is her first novel. You can sign up for email updates here.