It was Sienna’s.
“Seems she’s more popular than us,” Violet acknowledged.
Sienna’s eyes darted over the screen and then she shot to her feet so fast the dainty couch legs shrieked against the floor. Her gaze snapped left, then right, like she expected to see a ghost.
“Everything okay?”
“Yes, yep… definitely.” A nervous energy rolled off her in waves, restless fingers twitching at her sides and her words tumbling over each other breathlessly. “When is the dart throwing starting?”
“I guess now,” I muttered, putting down my plate of uneaten appetizers. I stood up, heading across the room. I picked one up, the metal cool against my fingers and the plastic flights brushing my knuckles.
Sienna put her phone down and moved herself comfortably out of the throwing line. “Then let’s get this party started.”
“I just want to say,” Violet began, her hands folding neatly in her lap, her voice wrapped in a calm that served her well as a therapist, “that nothing good has ever started with darts in someone’s living room.”
Sienna snorted, her arm slung lazily over the back of the sofa, as if we weren’t teetering on the edge of something stupid.
“I strongly disagree,” she said. “Some breakthroughs start exactly this way.” She examined her fingernails before adding, “Or by hacking into people’s bank accounts and stealing their money.”
“You’re rage-baiting me, kid,” Violet stated matter-of-factly, “but I’m not biting.”
“Let her be,” I protested. “She’ll deal with shit her own way. We’re all working on moving on from… stuff.”
My voice cracked on the last word, but thankfully Sienna and Violet pretended not to notice.
Sienna wandered over to the windows, then stood there with her arms crossed, watching me with the sharp concern of someone too young to have learned how life could rearrange us.
“Want me to go with you?” Sienna offered. “We can throw darts together.”
“Absolutely not,” I said. The world map on the wall seemed to stare back at us, scarred and pockmarked, waiting. “Don’t worry, Sienna. This is all harmless. An adventure.”
Violet’s gaze flicked to the world map. “That map needs some updating.”
“So does my life,” I said lightly. The room went silent, and I smiled quickly to reassure everyone. “I’m not spiraling,” I added. “I’m… redirecting.”
“You’re attempting to outrun grief through geographical displacement.” Violet crossed her legs, ever the professional. “You need to stay and deal with it, not run.”
I tilted my head. “To be fair, grief hates airports.”
She shook her head disapprovingly.
I turned back to the map, my vision stinging as tears threatened to spill, the borders and country names blurring into fragments of memory. A dull ache settled in my chest, choosing the worst moment to make itself known.
Before the accident, every day had a purpose. I planned, I dreamed, I knew exactly where I was going and who I was. With or withoutJonathan, but knowing he would be alive and living his own life somewhere.
Now I moved through life like a stranger, stumbling from one day to the next without direction, unsure of what the right thing to do was.
The circumstances surrounding Jonathan’s death wrapped themselves tightly around me, and the constant fear for my family’s safety became a cage I couldn’t escape. It followed me everywhere, whispering warnings and refusing to let me grieve, let alone move on.
Distance might be the only way out. Maybe if I could put oceans between myself and the past, I could finally breathe again and keep Kristoff and his family safe.
Leaving wasn’t running away; it was survival. I was choosing to protect the ones I loved.
“Leaving is the best thing I can do right now,” I murmured.
“Running won’t erase your loss,” Sienna pointed out softly.
“I know, but staying won’t either,” I said. “You’ve talked to Kai?”
