HOLLY
Nope. I’m good.
HOLLY
But seriously... thank you. For the luggage rescue.
HOLLY
And for checking on me.
Something in my chest tightens at her words.
This is the Holly I remember—the one who notices things. Who fights like hell, but is always thankful for kindness.
The one I'm definitely going to hell for wanting.
ME
Always.
ME
Hey, Squirt…
HOLLY
Yeah, Jackass?
There it is. That spark of humor that’s so Holly.
Impressive how she wields sarcasm even when she’s imploding inside. A smile tugs at my mouth. She’s tough, always finding a way to pull herself back from the edge, even when the ground is shifting under her feet.
ME
This is your presentation to lose. Don’t let your father get in your head. He doesn’t deserve that power. You're the only one who can give it to him.
Dots appear doing the digital wave over and over, only to disappear thirty seconds later. Each one ticking away is a reminder that I’m way too invested in this.
No reply.
They flash on the screen again. Stop. Then reappear.
I can’t help but watch the hypnotic little bastards like they might hold the answer to the age-old question: which came first the chicken or the goddamn egg, while the Jeopardy theme song plays through my head: do-do-do-do, do-do-do…
Pure. Fucking. Agony. My chest tightens, caught somewhere between anticipation and the urge to throw my phone across the room.
HOLLY
Get some sleep, soldier boy.
I blink down at her response, the relief so powerful, I’m dizzy from it.
HOLLY
Fresh battle tomorrow.
She has no idea. But that's tomorrow's problem.
