There was a shaky breath on the other end, then Sydney’s voice cracked. “Did you check your email?”
Hillary frowned, already reaching for her laptop. “No, I’ve been buried in work. Why?”
“Don’t—” Sydney’s voice wavered. Then a sob slipped through. “She died.”
Hillary’s stomach plummeted. Her hands froze on the keyboard. “Who died?”
Her fingers scrambled across the trackpad, opening her personal inbox. And there it was, sitting like a stone in her chest.
An email. From her mother.
One line. Cold. Clinical. Impersonal.
Your grandmother passed away last night.
Delivered not with a phone call, not with compassion, but with pixels and subject lines.
Hillary stared at the screen, her pulse roaring in her ears.
Her grandmother. Gone.
And her mother had told her in an email.
Sydney’s voice was thick with tears. “I got some time off. I’m heading to Connecticut this evening. Do you want to come with me?”
Hillary felt like she was underwater, everything muffled, collapsing in on itself. The last twenty-four hours had already thrown her so far off balance. Murphy. The concert. The jealousy she couldn’t shake. And now this.
It needed to end. All of it. She needed control back.
“Of course,” she said numbly. “I’ll pick you up later, and we’ll drive together.”
They hung up, and Hillary sat for a long beat, staring at the dull glow of her computer screen. Then she stood, her body moving without thought, and walked down the hallway to Sasha’s office.
Sasha looked up from her desk, smiling, but the moment her eyes met Hillary’s, the smile fell away. “What’s wrong?”
Hillary swallowed hard. “My grandmother passed away last night.”
Sasha’s hand flew to her chest. “Oh, Hillary. I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do?”
The old instinct slammed into place. The walls. The armor. The familiar numbness. Hillary straightened her shoulders. “I’m fine. We weren’t close. But I’m leaving today to help with arrangements.”
“Of course.” Sasha’s voice was gentle, steady. “I’ll handle things here. Don’t worry about work.”
Hillary nodded, her throat tight. “Thank you. Having you here—it’s good. I know I can leave it in your capable hands.”
Sasha pushed back from her chair and came around the desk. Before Hillary could protest, she wrapped her arms around her.
Hillary went stiff, every muscle taut. This wasn’t the kind of affection she was used to. Not in her family. Not anywhere. But then she inhaled, shaky and sharp, and let herself lean in.
She hugged Sasha back.
Just for a moment.
And in that moment, Hillary realized that, co-worker or not, Sasha was an amazing friend.
"Alright, well, I'm going to finish up a few things, but then I'm going to head out."
"Do you need anything?" Sasha asked with sympathy written all over her face.
