I straighten, smooth my apron, and step back out front.
The rush tapers off around midmorning, the regulars trickling out one by one. I keep glancing at the door, half-expecting him to come back. Half-dreading it.
He doesn’t. Of course he doesn’t.
When the café empties, the quiet settles in heavier than before. The windows hum faintly with the cold.
I check the clock.
It’s too early to close. Too late to pretend I’m not rattled.
My phone buzzes in my pocket.
For a split second, my heart leaps for a reason I refuse to examine.
Then I see the name on the screen.
Marla.
Daisy’s sitter.
I answer immediately. “Hi.”
“Abby?” Her voice sounds tight. “There’s been an accident.”
The words land like a blow to the chest.
“What kind of accident?” I ask, already reaching for my coat.
“There’s a fire,” she says quickly. “Not here—at the house down the street. Daisy was inside playing with her friend when it started, but the firefighters are here. She’s out now.”
The world narrows to a pinpoint.
“Is she hurt?”
“No,” Marla says. “She’s coughing a little, but they’ve got her on oxygen. She’s asking for you.”
“I’m on my way,” I say, already moving.
I hang up and don’t bother thinking. Thinking will come later, if I let it.
Filling in a startled Nancy quickly, I flip the sign on the door fromOPENtoCLOSED, while she promises to finish cleaning before she locks up.
I grab my bag, shrug into my coat with clumsy hands, and race outside.
The café is peaceful as I leave, patiently for my return. Right now, there’s only one place I belong.
I run down the street.
The cold air burns my lungs as I sprint down the street, boots slipping slightly on packed snow. My breath comes fast and ragged, fear pounding through me with every step.
I don’t let myself imagine the worst. I don’t let myself think about what could have happened, what almost did.
I think of Daisy’s laugh. Her stubborn streak. The way she insists on wearing dresses with flowers even in the dead of winter.
My daughter. My whole world. The reason I stayed. The reason I learned how to build something solid when everything else fell apart.
The fire trucks come into view first, red lights flashing violently against the white landscape. Smoke curls up into the sky, dark and wrong and terrifying.
