Max eventually trots back inside, his tongue lolling from the side of his mouth as he pants happily. His tail wags like a metronome set to chaos, sweeping side to side as he heads straight for the couch like it’s his throne. Without hesitation, he leaps up and circles once before flopping down beside Tessa, pressing his warm body against her legs with a huff of satisfaction.
Tessa smiles down at him and leans forward to set her coffee mug on the table. She eases back into the cushions and gently runs her fingers through Max’s fur. He practically melts beneath her touch, his tail thumping softly against the cushions in lazy approval.
I watch them briefly before turning toward the kitchen. My stomach grumbles loud enough to be annoying, so I head over to make something simple. I rummage through the cabinets, grab the honey-roasted peanut butter and raspberry preserves, then pull a couple of slices of butter bread from the loaf. I’m halfway through spreading the peanut butter when a knock echoes from the front door.
“Hey, Tess, can you get that? I’m kinda elbow-deep in sandwich prep,” I call out, licking some peanut butter from the knife without shame.
“Isn’t it unlocked, though?” she replies, already pushing off the couch with a soft groan.
“Yeah, but she probably has her hands full or something,” I reply as I return to my sandwich prep.
Tessa mutters something under her breath but shuffles toward the front door anyway. She yanks it open and pauses. “Uh… no one’s here,” she says, her voice colored with confusion.
I peek out from the kitchen, sandwich in one hand and the knife coated in the raspberry preserves in the other. “Seriously?”
“I swear, no one—wait, what’s this?” She steps just outside momentarily, then returns holding a small white envelope. She closes the door behind her and eyes it curiously.
“What is it?” I ask as I toss the knife into the sink, then take a bite of my sandwich as I exit the kitchen.
“A card, I think. It was tucked under the welcome mat,” she replies, flipping it over in her hands. “There’s no stamp or return address. Just… a name.”
“Whose name?” I ask through another bite.
Tessa looks up, brows knitting slightly as she holds it out. “Yours.”
EIGHT
RAELYNN
“Mine?”I ask, mid-chew, finishing off the last bite of my sandwich. Crumbs stick to my fingers as I motion for Tessa to hand over the envelope.
“Yeah.” She passes it with a faint frown.
I wipe my hands against my shirt before taking it, turning the envelope over a few times. It’s one of those cheap ones that come with dollar store cards. My name is scrawled across the front in jagged capital letters—rushed, sharp, the pen biting into the paper hard enough to indent. There’s no return address. No stickers, no flourishes, none of the usual signs of a friend or family member sending something thoughtful.
A prickle runs down my spine. “Weird,” I murmur. “The handwriting doesn’t look familiar.”
I’m just about to slide my finger under the envelope’s seal when a sharp knock jolts both me and Tessa. We flinch, eyes snapping to the front door. For a split second, neither of us says anything—we just stare, as if expecting something (or someone) to burst through it.
Then Khloe’s unmistakable voice cuts through the silence like a blade through tension.
“Ding dong, bitches!”
Tessa exhales a shaky laugh and shakes her head, a mix of relief and exasperation etched across her face. “God, Khloe,” she mutters as she crosses the living room and pulls the door open without missing a beat.
Khloe struts in like she owns the place, a drink carrier full of Dutch Bros balanced expertly in her hands. She’s dressed in peak comfort mode: a faded pink Nirvana smiley tee that hangs off one shoulder, black leggings, and tan UGG boots. Her hair is loose for once, her shoulder-length locks bouncing with each step she takes.
Max springs off the couch the second she’s through the door, tail wagging furiously as he trots over to greet her.
“Sup,” Khloe says breezily, nudging the door shut behind her with her foot as she bends down to give Max the attention he’s demanding. “Hi, buddy,” she coos, running her fingers behind his ears while he nuzzles her in approval.
She walks the tray over to the coffee table and sets it down before turning her attention to me. Her eyes catch on the envelope still in my hand, and one brow arches. “Whatcha got there, Rae?” she asks, her tone light but tinged with curiosity.
I’m sure the confusion’s still written all over my face, heavy and unmoving. “A card,” I murmur. “Someone left it on our porch a few minutes ago. No clue who it’s from.”
Max gives Khloe one last nudge of affection before trotting back to the couch, curling into the warm indent he’d left behind—content now that he’s completed his greeting. Meanwhile, the envelope in my hand feels like it weighs a hundred pounds.
“Well… are you gonna open it or just glare at it like it insulted your outfit?” Khloe teases, her smirk not quite masking the edge in her voice. She snags a coffee from the tray and passes it to Tessa before grabbing another and walking it over to me.
