It started with a tear. Just one, slipping down my cheek on chapter two, as I read: “Colors didn’t come from the ocean, or the trees, or even the island itself. It came from all of you.” By the time I reached, “But he already has a home,” I was sobbing outright, clutching the book as if it could somehow stop breaking my heart.

How did these little monster children—so wise, so fierce, so full of love—steal my heart so completely? Each one carries their own quiet wounds, their own brave hopes, and together, they create a family that defies the world’s expectations. And oh, when Lucy called Arthur “Dad” and Linus “Papa,” it wasn’t just a tear; it was a flood. I could barely see the words through the blur.

Lucy, my chaotic, devilish sweetheart, is the best little demon child. He teases Linus mercilessly, but when he’s scooped into his dad and papa’s arms, he’s pure, tender love. And Linus—oh, Linus. Watching him grow from a buttoned-up, rule-following man to someone who fights fiercely for these children, for their safety and happiness, was nothing short of magic. Then there’s Arthur, steadfast and kind, and Queen Zoe, the grounding force who reminds us all of the power in quiet strength. Together, they create a story that feels like hope made tangible. I didn’t expect to fall so deeply into Arthur and Linus’s love story, but it was impossible not to.

This book isn’t just about love between two people. It’s about the family you choose, the courage it takes to truly see and be seen, and the kind of magic that happens when you create a home out of people who were once lost.

I finished the last page with tears still on my face, not just from sadness or joy, but from awe. This story is everything: heartbreak and hope, whimsy and wonder, a love letter to bravery and kindness. It’s a book I’ll carry with me always.