Chapter 1 - Gabriella
I woke up to the sound of the fire alarm going off. I jerked up in bed, finding my room was pitch black. I quickly threw my sheets off, but as I got up, I found my legs were wrapped in the sheets and stumbled hard onto the ground. I groaned as I grabbed my bed, pulling myself up, not having a moment to worry about the pain.
I grabbed my robe at the foot of my bed, throwing it over myself as I hurried into the hallway and took a right into the kitchen. I found Hazel standing on a chair, waving a dish towel in the air, trying to clear the smoke out. I could see smoke coming out of the toaster and felt my shoulders relax.
“Sorry,” Hazel said, with a sigh. “I told you we needed a new toaster. This is the second time this week I’ve done this.”
I rubbed at my eyes, still clinging to sleep, but there was no point. By the time I fell asleep, I would need to get up anyway. So, I might as well stay awake.
“Please, say you started coffee,” I asked, walking into the kitchen. The kitchen itself wasn’t big. We had a crummy, rundown stove and fridge that didn’t always seem to work. A sink that you had to turn the knob all the way to even get it to turn on a little. It was a tight space that two people could not fit into, but we made it work.
I shimmied past her toward the coffee maker and poured myself a cup. I opened the fridge, and a rancid smell wafted out. My nose crinkled up. “Did the fridge go out again?”
Hazel shrugged as she jumped down, grabbed the chair, and headed back into the small dining area, shoving the chair back in its spot. “Possible. I just got back from a run.”
I shut the fridge and grabbed our sugar, dumping a couple of spoonfuls in. Hazel watched me, her eyebrows going up. “I can run out and grab us some coffee. You don’t need to make yourself drink that if we don’t have creamer.”
I shook my head, not needing to waste money on anything. We were already struggling enough. I could make myself have crappy coffee.
I looked past her toward the living room and frowned. The apartment wasn’t great. It was hardly eight hundred square feet. The bedrooms were tiny, both of us using twin mattresses and a small dresser. We had used furniture throughout the entire house. A couch we were given that was uncomfortable to sit on since the cushions were old. A lamp that worked half of the time in the living room. We had a dining table with three mismatched chairs. The only thing we splurged on was the TV, but we had crappy internet, so our shows were always cutting out.
Everything else was given to us when we got here, and we were grateful. We at least had something and a roof over our heads. But almost eight months later, we were still here. In this gross apartment, unable to move up. And it wasn’t from a lack of trying.
I worked remotely as a certified payroll specialist. I could work whatever hours I wanted, which gave me the freedom to do other things. Hazel worked odd jobs, never really finding something that fit her needs. But either way, we made good money.
I’d applied for different apartments, only to be constantly turned down. We had been given plenty of reasons: you don’t qualify, or you haven’t lived here long enough. It was code for we didn’t trust you.
We had contemplated buying a house, but then questioned whether we even wanted to stay. What was the point if we didn’t feel we fit in?
“Are you just getting in?” I asked, seeing the dark bags under her eyes. Hazel shrugged. “I stayed a little longer to help clean up at the bar.”
I frowned, seeing the shift in her. Hazel would never admit to things, but I knew she was just as unhappy as I was here. Neither of us had really made any friends, and we couldn’t exactly say we loved it here. We were grateful for the help after the fire and the loss of our home. Brandon and Nora were amazing and constantly checking in. But that didn’t mean the entire pack was as open-minded as they were. If anything, that seemed to stop after a month of us being here.
The toaster popped up, and I stared at the half-burned bread. Hazel grumbled as she pulled it out. “We need a new toaster.”
I caved. “I’ll look for one when I’m done at the library.”
Hazel took a bite of the bread as she turned, walking into the dining area. She sat down, sighing heavily. Hazel and I were sisters, but we were very different. She had dark brown hair that was almost black and a paler complexion. She was brutally honest and had those sharp eyes to match. She was like our father in that way.
I took after our mother. I had her reddish-brown hair, auburn when the light hit it just right. I had deep hazel eyes and a tan that never seemed to go away. I had gone to college and gotten my degree easily, while Hazel didn’t exactly know what she wanted to do with herself. She hated school, hated the idea of having to fit into a box. I think most of that was due to our parents dying when we were teens.
We grew up with different lives. I had my parents at all my school events and reminders that I was loved. Hazel grew up in a household where our father was dying of cancer, and our mother was slowly losing her mind. He died when I was seventeen, and she was turning fifteen. Our mother died just six months later, overdosing on her medication.
It was part of why I was so protective of her. I hated that she never got what I did, hated how it all turned out. A part of me blamed myself, wishing I had noticed things sooner, been able to remind my parents that while everything was shit, my sister and I still needed love, reminders that we were still there and needed to be noticed.
“Are you okay?” Hazel gave me a weird expression, waving her hand at me. I quickly shook my head, snapping myself back to reality.
“Sorry. I was thinking about work.”
Hazel took another bite of her toast. “Okay, well, I’m going to bed.” She popped herself up and turned toward the stairs. “See you in eight hours.”
The apartment fell silent after I heard her door shut. A coldness settled over me. I swallowed, wishing I could change so much more.
I showered and headed out of the apartment, wanting Hazel to get some good sleep. I took a walk around Belrose and headed to the library. I couldn’t help but smile, thinking of all the stories inside. The library was my sanctuary away from everything. All my problems were left at the door.
Marium, the elderly bookkeeper, sat at the front desk, scanning books in. Her glasses sat low on her nose, her dark brown eyes narrowing at the computer screen as she tried to read. She had short, gray hair that curled slightly at the ends.She hardly looked up as I walked to the desk. “This stupid thing is busted again,” she grumbled, placing the scanner down. Her gaze drifted to me, and she nodded. “Morning, Gabriella.”
“Morning, Marium. Do you need help with that?”
