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Charlotte cut herself off, before the lecture could fully ignite. Instead, she pivoted to the cabinet, pulling out painkillers and a Liquid I.V. packet from the neatly kept stash. She poured a cup of coffee, adding just the right amount of creamer, muscle memory from mornings with Lilah during her college party girl phase. A phase Charlotte thought Lilah had outgrown.

“You could’ve⁠—”

“Please. Don’t start,” Lilah’s voice was barely a whisper, but the splintering edges were impossible to miss. “I know I’m an idiot.”

Charlotte carried the supplies across the island, sliding the coffee in front of her and brushing sand off Lilah’s neck and shoulder.

“That’s the thing, Bug.”

Lilah sat up, shoulders drooping, chin tucked, refusing to meet Charlotte’s gaze.

“You are brilliant,” Charlotte continued, tone softening. “You’re beautiful. You’re kind and funny. You can do whatever you put your mind to.”

Lilah’s fingers twisted together, her voice so quiet Charlotte almost missed it.

“I’m not the person you think I am,” Lilah murmured. “I still party too much, get wasted, mess everything up, and wake up on beaches alone.” Her breath shuddered out. “I can’t even stand to be around myself sometimes.”

Charlotte’s stomach twisted, the self-hate in Lilah’s words striking to her core. She knew what it was not to trust yourself. She could see pieces of herself in Lilah. Pieces of James… of everyone. But there were pieces that were unique and wholly Lilah. She tugged on a strand of sticky, sand-crusted blonde hair, hoping for a small smile.

Instead, Lilah sniffled and angled herself away.

“What’s going on, Bug?” Charlotte questioned, warm palm sweeping circles across Lilah’s back, sending more grains of sand scattering.

“I’m just a disappointment,” Lilah whispered, voice wet and rough, colored with defeat.

All the air left Charlotte’s lungs. Lilah was wild, stubborn, and at times dramatic. But to hear her speak so negatively about herself… and worse, sound as though she believed it as fact, it was a knife to her chest.

“That’s not true and you know it.” Charlotte drew Lilah’s chin back around, coaxing her eyes upward. “Where is this coming from?”

Lilah shrugged.

“I dunno. I think maybe I’m just having a terrible hangover and it’s got me in a bad headspace.”

Charlotte remembered plenty of wretched hangovers. Days hunched over the toilet, head splitting as her mood turned a particular shade of blue. But this was something else.

“We’ll get you fixed up,” Charlotte said, nudging the coffee closer and tapping the pill bottle before moving to make her some toast. Her gaze fixed on the glowing metal coils inside as she pondered.

On more than one occasion, she nursed Lilah back to health after a wild night. Even at her messiest, Lilah always bounced back. But over the past few months, both she and Elizabeth had been swallowed by their own lives. Charlotte only saw Lilah at game nights where she seemed her usual sunny self.

Maybe waking up alone on the beach gave her a fright, highlighting the reality of her decisions?

The toast leapt out, startling her back to the moment.

“You know you can always call me?” she said, sliding the warm slice onto the plate.

“You’ve been busy.”

Charlotte brandished the butter knife at her, stern but soft. “If you need me. You call me. I’ll always have time for you. And even if I didn’t, I’d make time. I know I push you, but I’m never disappointed in you.”

“Really? Even though I’ve achieved nothing in life?”

“Bug,” Charlotte sighed, settling into the stool beside her. “You’ve always been a woman with many interests. Which is okay. You just haven’t found what you’re passionate about.” She handed Lilah the buttered toast. “Sometimes, it takes time.”

Lilah nibbled at one corner, voice tentative and soft.

“I think maybe I want to go back to school?”

Charlotte bumped her shoulder, a soft smile teasing her lips.