Maria hesitated, glancing toward Hannah. “She’s alive. Stronger now. Out of town for a conference. She’ll be back soon.”
I nodded, but my throat felt like sandpaper. Of course she was out of town. The disappointment threatened to settle deep in my bones. Dalton glanced at me.
“I just need some air,” I muttered as I headed towards the porch.
Outside, the late afternoon light spilled gold across the gravel lot. The bikes gleamed in neat rows, dust glowing in the beams from the open garage. Somewhere out back, a wrench clanked against metal, steady and familiar. I made it as far as the porch before my leg started screaming. I eased myself down onto the step, elbows resting on my knees, the cane balanced across them like a lifeline.
The screen door creaked behind me. Dalton stepped out, two beers in hand. He didn’t say anything—just dropped one beside me and sat down. For a while, neither of us spoke. The cicadas filled the silence. The wind moved slow through the pines.
“You look good. All things considered.”
I glanced at him, eyebrow raised. I looked like shit and knew it. It would take a few more months of eating something that wasn’t jerky and naan to get me back into shape. “That’s generous.”
“Maybe. But it’s good to have you back.”
I tipped my head back, watching clouds drift slow across the tree line. “Feels weird. Like I’m visiting my own life.”
“It’ll pass,” he said. After a moment, quieter, he added, “She’s not the same, you know.”
I didn’t need to ask who.
Dalton rubbed the back of his neck, eyes on the gravel. “She went through hell after you were gone. It’s not my story to tell, but…she’s a hell of a woman. She’s like a sister to me.”
My throat tightened. “I always knew she was special.”
He laughed. “Yeah. The way she eviscerated you in that parking lot all those years ago must have been a dead giveaway.”
I laughed then too, a genuine sound that sounded foreign. We settled into a comfortable silence and I stared down at my hands—scarred, shaking,real.A few minutes later, Diego and Mac joined us on the porch. For a few moments, I remembered us as kids. Freshman year. Then sophomore year, dominating the football field. The carefree, natural we had worked together as a team even after Mac graduated.
“Didn’t think I’d ever get back here.” The admission surprised even me.
Diego nudged my shoulder. “You made it. That’s all that matters.”
We sat there until the sun dipped low, painting everything in orange and shadow. Inside, the clubhouse started to hum again. I was finally home. But home was still missing its heart.
My heart.
? Holly ?
The terminal still buzzed with end-of-conference adrenaline—rolling suitcases, clacking heels, and the smell of too much coffee and cheap perfume.
My tote bounced against my hip, the conference badge still swinging from my neck:Young Entrepreneurs Summit—Detroit.Three days of panels and speeches. Three days of smiling until my cheeks ached. Three days proving that I could stand on my own, that I wasn’t just the girl who almost broke and stayed broken.
The keynote went perfectly. Willow’s Harbor picked up two new donors. I even had people asking for advice afterward—me, the girl who used to live off caffeine and panic attacks.
I was exhausted. Proud.Alive.
Then I saw them.
Maria. Hannah. My mom.
They were standing by baggage claim like a wall of silence.
I smiled, lifted a hand, tried to play it off. “You all came to pick me up? What, did I win something?”
Maria smiled back, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Hannah’s jaw was locked tight. Mom’s hands twisted the strap of her purse so hard her fingers went pale.
The smile dropped right off my face. “Ok…what’s going on?”
