I groaned and seriously considered just walking out and never coming back. Except I needed this job. Needed the money. Needed to not be unemployed with a mountain of debt and a brother depending on me.
“I have to apologize,” I muttered.
“How?”
“I don’t know. Grovel? Beg? Offer my soul?”
“Pretty sure he doesn’t accept souls as payment.”
“Then I’m out of options.”
I left the kitchen before Gianna could make things worse. I followed the path Hector had taken at a careful distance, trying to figure out what I could possibly say that wouldn’t make this catastrophe even worse.
I found him standing in the living room doorway, looking at something on the coffee table.
Lily’s drawing. The ballerina with stars.
Then his gaze moved to the couch. To Lily, small and asleep, crayon still loosely held in one hand.
His expression changed. Just for a second. Something passed across his face—something that looked like pain.
His hand went to the back of his neck. Gripped there. That gesture I’d noticed before.
Then he turned and walked away.
I stood there in the hallway, watching him disappear, and couldn’t bring myself to follow him, nor could I stop thinking about that expression on his face.
Hector Valdez had looked human.
CHAPTER 3
Sarah
My phone buzzedon the kitchen counter, its screen cracked in the corner and held together with clear tape. Delia’s name flashed across it. I grabbed it while I stared into my refrigerator. Empty except for condiments and something that might have once been yogurt. Or cheese. Hard to tell at this point. I grimaced at the sight, wrinkling my nose.
“Hey,” I said, wedging the phone between my shoulder and ear.
“Oh good, you’re alive. I was starting to think you’d fallen into a black hole or something.”
“Just sitting here. Living the dream.” I closed the fridge before the smell could escape. “You know, the usual—contemplating my life choices and losing.”
“You sound thrilled about it.” I could hear the smile in her voice, but it faded quickly. “Seriously though. What are you doing?”
“Staring at my apartment and wondering when I became this person.” I walked back to my couch, dropped onto it with more force than necessary. “I’m almost thirty and still can’t get mylife together. At what point does it actually get better? Is there a manual I missed?” I sighed.
“Sarah.” The lightness disappeared from her voice completely. “Hey. Talk to me. What’s going on?”
“Nothing. Everything. I don’t know.” I pulled my knees up, wrapped my free arm around them. The couch springs creaked. I’d pulled this thing from a street corner five years ago and it showed. “I just feel like I’m running in place while everyone else is actually going somewhere. And I’m still here. Five years, Delia. Nothing’s changed.”
“That’s not true. What about Lily? The progress you’re making with her? You have a steady job now?—”
“I’m still not certified.” The words came out tired. “I’m one job loss away from being homeless.”
“Sarah—”
“Sorry. I’m not trying to dump everything on you.”
“Don’t apologize. That’s what I’m here for.” She paused. “You know I can help, right? If you need money for the exam or anything else. The photography business is really good right now.”
