The words sting even if she doesn’t mean them that way. “Yeah,” I whisper, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite land. “They would have.”
She hesitates, guilt flickering in her eyes. “Love you,” she says quickly before rushing out the door.
The second she’s gone, I drop my head to the counter and inhale deeply, but the weight on my chest doesn’t lift. It never does because she’s right.Mom and Dad would’ve found a way.
It’s been six years since they’ve been gone, and the grief hasn’t left. I’ve lost myself caring for Ella and trying to keep a roof above our heads while putting food on the table. Selling our family home barely covered the medical bills from Ella’s stay, but it was enough. We found this little two-bedroom apartment closer to Ella’s school, so we could walk on the bad days when she couldn't bear to get into the car or bus. It isn't much, but it's home now. Every day is the same: get Ella up and to the bus, head to work, head home to wait for Ella to get there, make dinner, check homework, and fight Miss Independent to go to sleep at a decent time.
Don't get me wrong; she’s a brilliant student and highly motivated, but she’s also a teenage girl who thinks I’m lame. Hell, I think I’m lame. I remember the girl I used to be vividly. I used to be fun and carefree. I used to be popular and the life of the party. I catch my reflection in the microwave door—mascara smudged, and hair in a knot I don’t remember making—and wonder when I became the kind of woman who gets excited about grocery sales on Ella's favorite organic waffles instead of Friday nights.How did I get so lost in this life?
I check the time.Shit, if I don’t hurry, I’m going to be late forwork again.
The chime on the clinic’s door pulls my attention from the computer screen, and I glance up to see a woman walking in, cradling a small and trembling terrier wrapped in a blanket. My heart squeezes at the sight. The poor little guy looks terrified.
“Hey there.” I stand, giving her a warm smile. “Who do we have here?”
“This is Max.” She holds the bundle toward me, her voice full of worry. “He hasn't been acting like himself. I’m not really sure what’s wrong. I didn't know if I should even come in.”
I lean across the counter and lower my voice like I’m speaking just to Max. “Hey buddy, we’re going to take good care of you, okay?” Then I look toward the woman. “Dr. Martinez is amazing with these things. Let’s get you checked in.” I slide a clipboard across the counter and gesture to the seating area. “Have a seat and start filling out these forms, and she’ll call you when she's ready.”
Allowing the hum of the noises around me to lull me into a false sense of calm, I get lost in thoughts of the past, but it’s short-lived when a commotion erupts down the hallway.
“Vi, we got another one.” Emily's voice cuts through the quiet as she walks down the hallway, holding a tiny kitten wrapped in a towel. The kitten's fur is filthy, its eyes are matted closed, and its weak mewling is like a punch to the chest.
“Oh, sweet baby,” I murmur. “Where’d he come from?”
“Box by the dumpster,” Emily sighs. “He’s bad off, but I think he’ll make it.”
I open a new record so treatment can start, and it's heartbreaking to type ‘Unknown’ under most of the required fields.It never gets easier.“You’re safe now, little one,” I whisper, stroking his head.
Emily smirks. “Careful, or you’ll be the one taking him home.”
I laugh. “Don’t tempt me. The landlord already thinks I’m hiding a zoo because of all the different fosters this year.” Thankfully, the dog I had for a few weeks found its new family last week. I have to stop bringing animals home, or my landlord may kick me out.
She shakes her head and walks toward the back.
The rest of the day hums like it always does. Phones ring, refills get sent, and Dr. Martinez hums some old tune. Duke, our golden retriever mascot, nudges my elbow until I hand him a biscuit. His tail thumps against the counter like he just saved the world.
“Yeah, you’re a good boy,” I tell him, scratching behind his ears.
For a moment, I just stand there and let it all sink in. The noise. The smell. The soft shuffle of paws on the tile. It isn’t glamorous, but it’s real. Sometimes I miss the version of me that dreamed bigger, but this one feels steadier. This life is small, quiet, and honest, and it’s mine.
Chapter 2
A Friendly Push (Straight Into the Fire)
Violet
I’m stirring a pot of pasta and still replaying my argument with Ella, when my phone starts buzzing.
Cami’s name flashes on the screen, and I can’t help but smile.
“Hey, stranger,” I answer.
“Vi!” Her voice bursts through the speaker, bright as champagne bubbles. “Finally! I was starting to think I’d have to hunt you down in Jersey just to hear your voice.”
“Never,” I laugh. “So what’s new in the glamorous life of Cami the Conqueror?”
“Oh, you know, the usual,” she says, dripping with mock drama. “I rubbed elbows with royalty last week, left a shoe at some gala, and accidentally turned a fundraiser into a dance-off. Momzilla was not amused.”
