She needed a new town.
Possibly a new identity.
Coffee came first though.
Panic could wait another fifteen minutes.
By the time she arrived at her parents’ house, the scent of bacon, burnt butter, and pancake batter wrapped around her before she even stepped through the front door.
Home.
Warmth settled around her instantly.
Classic Motown music drifted softly through the kitchen while sunlight spilled across dark hardwood floors polishedenough to reflect the morning light. Framed family photos lined the walls beside old school portraits and vacation pictures from years ago.
Her father sat comfortably at the kitchen table behind a newspaper with reading glasses balanced low on his nose. Douglass Bennett had aged into the kind of distinguished handsome that turned heads without trying.
Her mother, Denise Bennett, wore a bright yellow satin robe wrapped around her curvy frame while flipping pancakes with one hand and sipping coffee with the other. Her taffy-brown skin glowed beneath the morning sunlight pouring through the windows.
“Finally,” Paige sang dramatically. Her younger sister lounged across one of the island stools wearing matching pink pajamas, full-glam makeup, and oversized hoop earrings like she was filming a reality show instead of eating breakfast.
Johanna pointed. “Don’t start.”
Her mother turned slowly from the stove with a maternal investigative expression.
“You look pretty this morning,” her mother observed casually.
She was wearing a comfortable blue sweatsuit. Her hair was up in a sloppy ponytail. Johanna blinked suspiciously. “That sounded loaded.”
Paige snorted into her orange juice.
Their father lowered the newspaper slightly and smiled. “Morning, baby girl.”
“Morning, Daddy.”
At least one person in this house respected boundaries. Briefly.
Then her father folded the newspaper neatly and asked, “So… how was dinner with Blaze?”
She should have known the questions would begin.
Johanna dropped into the nearest chair and reached directly for the bacon platter.
“I hate this town.”
Paige gasped dramatically. “You kissed him, didn’t you?”
Johanna choked.
Her mother calmly slid orange juice toward her. “Baby, breathe before you hyperventilate.”
Paige came over for a closer look. “Oh my God, you did kiss him!” she cried like she had just spotted a hickey on her neck.
Johanna pointed aggressively while coughing. “Why are you like this?”
Paige took a seat at the table then leaned forward with narrowed eyes. “Why are you blushing?”
“I am not blushing,” Johanna argued while walking away to grab a coffee mug from the cabinet.
