Page 49 of Dancing in the Dark

This is where I’ll be until tomorrow.

“I’m gonna call Mayet and make sure this sleepover was sanctioned. Then I expect hourly texts from you.”

“Yes, Father.” He darts forward, intercepts the ball from a squealing Mia, and shoots it.

I don’t see it. But I hear the smooth swish.

“Hourly texts,” he repeats. “And I’ll bring her back to you tomorrow morning.”

“Okay, tha⁠—”

“Byeeeeeeeee.” He kills our call and steals my daughter as easily as he does a bright orange ball.

Blinking, blinking, blinking, I lower my hand and look around my living room. I have no art on the walls yet, which is a stark contrast to the art I studied in Sera’s apartment last night.

I have no pretty baubles on the TV cabinet. She does.

I have no whimsical bowls for collecting things like rocks, shells, and paper flowers in. She does.

I don’t even have soft blankets draped across the couch for late-night movie marathons in the dark.

Sera has those, too.

My phone buzzes in my hand and draws my eyes down.

Minka:

Cato said you wanted to talk to me. What’s up?

I was planning to call her, but this is good enough, and it saves me from having a whole other conversation with literally anyone other than the two I want.

One is currently shooting hoops with a future pro ball player. The other… is probably already inside a ballroom somewhere, watching the mayor’s back and schmoozing people I wouldn’t have the patience to even acknowledge.

Unlocking my phone and navigating to my inbox, I type out a fast reply.

Me:

Just checking that it’s okay Mia’s sleeping at yours tonight. She and Cato have worked it out, I guess, but he’s technically a guest there, too, so I wanted to make sure.

Minka:

He’s not a guest here. This is his home now. And also, that’s fine. What time will she arrive?

Me:

What do you mean? She’s already there! Where are you?

Minka:

I’m kidding. I’m looking at her right now. If she falls off Cato’s shoulders, because he’s helping her dunk a ball, I promise to… ya know… go get Mary, so she can tend to her booboos. I’m off the clock, so…

Me:

You’re stressing me out.

Fuckkkk, I know she’s laughing at me.

Minka: