"“Bee,” I said, my voice wavering, and to my horror, I could feel stinging at the backs of my eyes, a thickness in my throat. “I effed this up.”

I did not say “effed.” I said the actual word. And it felt so good that I thought maybe I needed to say it again. Lots.

Lifting my head, I looked at Bee and tears spilled down my cheeks. “My effing powers are effing gone, and now I’ve got us into this effed-up situation, and I have no effing clue what the eff I’m going to do once we find David. Not a single. Effing. Idea.”

Bee’s eyes had gone wide, but I wasn’t sure if it was from my confession or the fact that I had just used that word so many times. And honestly, whichever it was, I did not give an eff."