As you rise from your seat, wondering what exactly you did wrong, your eyes land on Bella—still sitting, packing her things slowly with her head bowed and that jerk nowhere to be seen.

Sure, your interaction with Rosalie didn’t exactly go great, but at least she didn’t treat you like a walking nuisance.

And seeing Bella like that? It sparks something hot in your chest.

By the time you reach her desk, she’s nearly finished packing. She notices you, offering a quiet smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“You okay?” she asks, her voice soft, sincere—even through her own obvious hurt.

“Am I okay?” You blink at her. “Are you insane? Are you okay?!”

“Um… yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” she says, attempting nonchalance. But it’s a weak deflection, and you both know it.

Part of you wants to let it go—give her space to lick her wounds. But what kind of friend would that make you, if you weren’t there when she clearly needed a boost?

“Look, Bells…” you say, voice gentler now, “I saw you trying to talk to Edward.”

“Oh.” That’s all she says. Her eyes flick away from yours.

“I-I’m oka—” she starts to lie, but you cut her off. Dropping to her level, you rest one hand on her knee—slowly, carefully. She flinches a little, startled, but doesn’t pull away.

“Bella,” you say again, and this time she looks at you.

“You did absolutely nothing wrong. Honestly? I’m thankful for your bravery. Because of you, I got the guts to talk to Rosalie. But that’s beside the point.”

Your tone sharpens.

“The point is, Edward is the problem here.”

Mr. Varner shoots you a side-eye, but for once doesn’t interrupt.

“If he can’t even bother to respond to a polite conversation, then guess what?”

Bella’s lip twitches faintly. “What?”

“then Screw him. And his pompous hairdo.”

That earns you a real smile—small, but solid.

“Wow. Have you ever considered public speaking?” Bella teases in her usual tone.

You grin and stand, offering her your elbow with exaggerated formality. Bella rolls her eyes and pushes it aside as she rises.

As you pass Mr. Varner’s desk, he raises an eyebrow, amused.

“Sorry for holding you up again, teach,” you say, tone playful but sincere.

“First of all, Miss Matthews… don’t push your luck,” he replies, lips twitching in a near-smile. “Second—while I do not agree with Ms. Matthews word choice, I agree with her sentiment. Don’t waste your time on someone who won’t give you theirs.” He finishes with an encouraging smile as he looks in bella direction.

Bella gives him a real smile this time. “Thanks, Mr. Varner,” she says, genuine despite the fact that, yes, he definitely heard our entire conversation.

You mouth thank you in his direction as you head out with Bella, the hallway buzzing with students switching classes.

Brrrrrring.
The bell rings, signaling the end of art class — but you’re too caught up in your sketch to notice.

After biology, Rosalie had been the only thing on your mind. From her flawless, almost ethereal skin to the sharp cut of her cheekbones — like they were carved from a diamond — and those lips. Not too full, but just plump enough that it makes you wonder how they’d feel pressed against yours.

You're pulled from the trance of graphite and infatuation by the quiet weight of a presence beside you.

“So…” Maya murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper, like she’s talking more to herself than you. “I was right. There was someone else on your mind.”

You jump slightly, startled by her sudden appearance.
“It’s not what it looks like,” you blurt out, your tone more defensive than you mean it to be — like you’ve just been accused of a crime instead of caught sketching someone stupidly beautiful. You fumble to cover the drawing with your sleeve, cheeks flushing red with heat and shame.

When you look up at her, there’s a flicker across Maya’s face — something quick and unreadable — gone before you can name it. She replaces it with her usual smirk, though this one lands crooked, like it doesn’t want to stick.

“So you’re not drawing one of the Cullen girls, then?” she teases, but the lilt in her voice can’t quite mask the something underneath — something sharp and strangely bitter.

You blush again, helpless against the warmth rising in your face. She’s teasing, like always, but it’s starting to feel weirdly familiar — like it’s become your thing, even if you haven’t known her that long.
Trying to recover what little dignity you have left, you close the sketchbook and start packing your things, scrambling for a subject change.

Luckily, she beats you to it.

“Btw,” she says, pulling a folded slip of paper from her jeans pocket. For a heartbeat, you think it’s her number — and your chest does something stupid, caught somewhere between joy and sheer panic.

But then she continues.
“Jacob’s been hounding me all day. Wanted me to give you his number so you two can plan that little playdate of yours.” She hands it over like it’s no big deal — like your heart wasn’t in your throat half a second ago.

You take the paper and raise a brow. “Aren’t you coming on that so-called playdate, though? Thought you said you were in.”

Maya pauses at that, her smile faltering.

“Would you even want me there?” she asks, voice quieter this time — and edged with something a little too sharp to ignore. “Considering she’s clearly on your mind more than I am.” She tips her head toward your bag — the one hiding your sketch — and there it is. That something you couldn’t name earlier.

Jealousy.

But how? You’ve barely known Maya longer than Rosalie. You haven’t made promises. Haven’t crossed lines. And yet… something in her tone sticks to you, uncomfortable and a little bit aching.

“Just… be careful around her,” she says suddenly, her voice low but firm — almost protective. “The Cullens aren’t exactly known for their kindness. Especially her.”

And with that, she turns and heads for the door, leaving her words hanging like smoke.

You stand slowly, slipping Jacob’s number into your pocket as you follow. But the thought won’t leave you.

Rosalie didn’t ignore you out right…
But then again… you’d seen how Edward treated Bella — how cold he was, how detached. You’d seen Bella try to smile through it anyway.

And now, Maya’s warning wraps around your chest like a quiet thread of doubt.

You want to believe Rosalie’s different. You really do.
But for some reason… her words echo louder in your head than you'd like.
And somehow, that hurts more than it should.

Brrrrrring.
The bell rang, marking the end of gym class — your final lesson of the day.

Coach Clapp hadn’t held back. He made us run through a gauntlet of exercises so he could “assess our physical capabilities,” whatever that meant. I don’t think I did too badly. Managed to snag first place in the race around the gym and even got to the top of the climbing rope fast enough to ring that stupid bell.

Bella, on the other hand… well.

Okay, first: we weren’t in the same gym class — Coach Clapp splits himself between the two groups, swapping between them while another teacher fills in for the class he’s not watching. That teacher just happened to be Mr. Varner again, because of course it was.

And second… I’m not trying to be mean. Bella’s basically my closest friend right now, even if we did just meet today. But watching her try to climb that rope or do the balance beam… it was just kind of painful.

Still, I couldn’t not cheer her on.
Even if I was the only one doing it.
Even if the teachers gave me dirty looks.
Even if I got more side-eyes from other students than I could count.

Every time she looked my way with one of those tired little smiles… it was worth it.

After class, I made a beeline for my bag — mostly because I’d stashed a bottle of Gatorade in there, and after all that exercise, I was dying. I’ve never been a big water fan, and Gatorade’s the closest thing to soda they’ll let us bring into the gym.

I chugged half the bottle, wiped my face with a crumpled tissue I’d used this morning (still slightly smudged with eyeliner, but desperate times…), then threw my backpack on, While laying my jacket over the shoulder, since it’s a bit too how to put it on for now

Bella was still sitting on the floor by her stuff, water bottle in hand, staring at nothing in particular — like she was questioning every life choice that led her to this moment.

“You okay there, Bells?” I asked with a teasing lilt as I approached.

She looked up and gave me a crooked smile. “That’s the second time today you’ve asked me an obvious question.”

“Fair enough.” I smiled back and offered her a hand.

She hesitated for just a second, then took it, letting me pull her to her feet. I could tell she was out weighting the pros and cons of the situation, the pros being that she doesn’t have to get up by herself, after that onslaught of exercise and the cons being that she still getting use to me being so hands on in general

As we headed toward the exit of the gym, my stomach growled so loudly I was sure someone ten feet away could hear it.

“Hey, Bella — do you have anything going on after school?” I asked, already plotting.

She raised an eyebrow. “Not really. Why?”

“Well… I didn’t exactly eat anything at lunch—”

“Ugh. Don’t remind me,” she groaned, making a face.

“I was thinking maybe we could grab something together? My treat,” I said with what I hoped was a winning smile.

She narrowed her eyes. “Are you implying I can’t afford my own food?” she deadpanned.

“Well, if you want to pay the whole bill, I wouldn’t stop you.”

She let out a quiet laugh and bumped my shoulder with hers. “Don’t push it, Matthews.”

As we walked past the school office — the same place we’d picked up our schedules earlier — we both slowed.

There were voices inside. Heated ones.

“What do you mean you can’t change our classes?” Rosalie.

My heart thudded. She sounded furious.

“I’ve told you both already,” the secretary replied, sounding exhausted. “I can’t switch a single class without rewriting your entire schedules. And biology is full. Changing it would affect other students as well.”

“Then change that,” Rosalie snapped.

“Don’t,” Edward interjected, his tone sharp and low, like a warning.

Bella and I shared a look.
They were… trying to change their entire schedules?
Just to avoid us?

The sting hit fast and cold. I wasn’t sure what we’d done to deserve that, but clearly whatever happened in biology had shaken them more than we thought. Bella looked hurt too — even if she was better at hiding it.

“Like I said, Miss Cullen,” the secretary replied, more firmly this time, “I’d need a valid reason. And reworking multiple student schedules just so you can avoid someone isn’t one.”

Before Rosalie could retort, Edward cut her off again. “Thank you either way,” he muttered — and I swear he had to physically steer Rosalie out of the office.

Bella and I ducked to the side of the building, pressing ourselves against the wall like we were in some low-budget spy movie.

“What the hell is wro—” Rosalie began, but Edward cut her off again. “Not here. Not now.”

Rosalie didn’t answer, but she nodded tightly and followed him. Once they were out of earshot, we stepped out of our hiding spot, both of us too stunned to speak right away.

What did we do?

By the time we got to Bella’s pickup truck, I was practically vibrating with confusion and frustration. The moment I climbed inside, it all spilled out.

“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!” I half-shouted.

Bella didn’t answer right away. She just stared out the windshield, hands gripping the steering wheel tighter than necessary.

After a beat, I tried again, this time softer. “I know this is probably another obvious question, but… are you okay?”

She took a moment before answering.
“I… I honestly don’t know. It’s just bizarre, right? First the weird cafeteria stare-down… then Edward acting like I personally insulted his ancestors in biology… and now this?” Her voice was small, confused, and more than a little hurt.

“Tell me about it,” I murmured, letting my head fall back against the seat. “I legit thought Rosalie and I had a moment. She didn’t pull away when I touched her hand. And the way she looked at me… it felt real. Like the interest was mutual.”

We sat there for a while in comfortable silence, just watching cars drive by and trying to make sense of… everything.

But then my stomach growled — loudly — and broke the moment.

I glanced over at Bella. “Still up for getting something to eat?” I asked hopefully.

She turned toward me with one of those tiny smiles I was starting to get used to.

“I know just the place,” she said. “Did some research before I moved to Forks. Figured I should know what kind of food I was getting into.”

She pulled out her phone and started scrolling through her GPS. “It’s called Sully’s Drive-Thru. I think you’ll love it… if we can actually find it.”

I blinked. “A drive-thru?”

She shot me a look. “Just wait and see, Matthews.” She handed me her phone so I could direct her and started the engine.

And for the first time that after that whole debacle, I let myself smile again.

The rusted pickup rumbled down Forks Avenue, its engine growling low beneath them as a light drizzle tapped against the windshield. School had let out less than ten minutes ago, and Bella hadn’t said much since they pulled away from the parking lot — not that I minded. The quiet was kind of nice. Familiar.

“Left here,” I said, glancing down at Bella’s phone in my hand, GPS open and glowing dimly in the overcast light. I angled the screen. “Should be just past the hardware store…”

I trailed off, squinting through the fogged-up glass as the truck turned down a narrow side road. A gravel lot opened up just ahead, tucked between a sagging awning and a curtain of damp pine. The GPS pinged.

“…Huh. That was fast.”

Tires crunched over wet stone as Bella pulled the truck into a spot facing the diner.

Sully’s Drive-In.

It didn’t look like much — a squat, timeworn building with peeling white trim and a crooked sign that read SULLY’S DRIVE-IN in faded retro-red letters. The bulbs around the edges blinked like they were trying to stay alive through sheer stubbornness. Yellowed windows stretched across the front, fogged from the heat inside, and i could make out the blurred shapes of orange vinyl booths and the dim flicker of a heat lamp near the back wall.

A warped metal bench sat beneath the awning, gathering rainwater in its dents. A neon “Open” sign buzzed faintly from one corner, flickering like it was trying to speak but couldn’t quite get the words out.

I leaned forward, leather jacket creaking, my arm braced against the dash.

The whole place looked like it had been standing in that exact spot for fifty years — not untouched, just… unfazed.

The pine trees pressed in close around the edges of the lot, branches heavy with moisture, dripping slow and steady onto the roof of the truck. The forest felt watchful. Not unwelcome, just quiet — like it had made room for Sully’s, but it wouldn’t wait forever.

I smirked faintly. “This place looks straight out of a ‘90s horror movie,” she muttered. “Grease stains and Local legends.”

Bella shot me a side glance — unreadable but soft — and nudged her car door open with a creak.

As I step out of the car, the first thing I notice is my mom’s Mustang parked outside.

“I think that’s my dad’s Chevy,” Bella says, just as she catches me staring at the Mustang. “Wait… doesn’t that look like your mom’s car?”

I nod slowly.

“I swear to God,” she mutters, already sounding irritated, “if I find our parents making out in one of the booths, I’m gonna lose it.”

“Wait, wait—what? Where did that come from?” I ask, a mix of confusion and secondhand disgust washing over me.

“You didn’t see them this morning?” she says, as if it’s obvious.

“Um... no? Did I miss something?”

“Well… I guess most of it happened before you were up.” She pauses, like she’s mentally bracing herself. “There were weird stares. Your mom tried flirting with my dad.”

“She did what?” My stomach turns. “My mom hasn’t even looked at anyone since my dad bailed.”

Bella nudges my shoulder, her way of offering sympathy without making it too heavy.

“Then there was more staring,” she continues, ticking them off on her fingers. “And don’t even get me started on the look he gave her when she came back in her uniform. Oh—and your mom’s middle name? Exactly the same as my mom. Which is… weird, right?”

I open my mouth to suggest maybe we could just go in and pretend not to notice anything, but Bella cuts me off.

“Shit,” she hisses. “They noticed us.”

I follow her gaze—yep. There they are. Sitting together, mid-bite, both locking eyes with us like we just caught them in something.

As we step into the diner, I’m instantly hit with the warmth and the scent of grilled meat, damp pavement, and fir needles. It’s oddly comforting—like something half-forgotten but tucked deep in my chest.

Bella’s still tense beside me, so I try to ease the mood a little.

“What’s the worst thing that could happen?” I say, keeping my voice light. “I mean, we already get along. I think you’d make a great stepsister.”

She doesn’t respond, just bumps my shoulder with hers. But I catch it—the tiny twitch of her upper lip.

Yeah. That was a smile.

As we approached the table, I spotted them both still in uniform, sitting across from each other with half-eaten burgers and matching cups of coffee between them. Fries were scattered between the plates, a cozy kind of disarray like they’d been deep in conversation before we showed up.

My mom was the first to notice us, her eyes lighting up.

“Well hey there, Kiddo. How was school?” she asked, patting the seat beside her. I slid in without thinking, while Bella took the one next to her dad.

At the question, I found myself glancing at Bella, trying to figure out just how honest I wanted to be.

“It was… complicated,” I said eventually, giving Mom a tired little smile to soften it.

“That bad, huh?” Her brows pinched gently with concern. Then she hit me with the dreaded follow-up: “Was it… ‘bout what happened back home?”

I saw Bella’s expression shift, soft with understanding. Charlie just looked between us, probably wondering what exactly we were talking about.

“No, I don’t think so. Besides…” I gave Bella a quick smile. “She’s the only one I’ve talked to about it.”

At that, Mom visibly relaxed. Something in her shoulders loosened when she caught the supportive look in Bella’s eyes.

“Well, that’s good,” she said warmly, her gaze flicking between the two of us. “Real good.”

Charlie cleared his throat gently. “Is this something I should know about?” he asked, voice careful but kind.

Bella answered before I could. “Well… that depends on whether Elodie wants to tell you or not,” she said, giving me a soft look.

I glanced back at her—almost instinctively. Looking for a signal. Some kind of nonverbal cue. She must’ve read my mind, because the moment our eyes met, she smiled and gave the tiniest nod.

Alright. Guess we’re doing this.

I swallowed, bracing myself. “Well… Mr. Swan—”

He cut me off with a wave of his hand. “Charlie’s fine, Elodie.”

I nodded, nerves buzzing a little. “Right. Um… thanks, Charlie.”

I took a breath. Tried to phrase it gently, like ripping off a bandage but doing it slow.

“So… I play for the other team,” I said, voice low, like maybe he’d magically know what I meant.

He blinked. “Other team? Like… hockey?”

I could practically hear Bella groan as she dragged a hand over her face. My mom muttered under her breath, “Oh, Lord.”

No more riddles.

“I’m gay,” I said finally, barely above a whisper. I kept my gaze low, fiddling with the ring on my thumb.

Charlie stared for a second longer than I was comfortable with… then leaned back and said, “That’s all?”

He shrugged, trying to smile. “Here I thought you robbed a bank or something.”

Bella looked at him, half-shocked, half-impressed. “Well… it’s a little more complicated than that, Dad.”

Charlie pieced it together slowly. I could see it on his face—the careful way he asked next, “Is that… why you moved?”

Before Mom could swoop in and deflect, I answered, eyes still on my hands. “Part of it. Mom keeps saying we didn’t move because of me, but… yeah. Kinda.”

Charlie shifted, resting his arms on the table. “I’m not gonna pretend I’m all caught up on… well, everything,” he said slowly. “But one thing I do know is this—me and Bella? We’re here if you ever need us. No matter what.”

He looked at Bella as he said it, and when I glanced her way, I saw the pride in her face—soft but unmistakable.

Moms hand found mine under the table and give it a quick squeeze for reinsurance before silently mouthing a thank you in charlies direction 

The moment was cut short by the waitress swinging by with a notepad and a tired smile. “Can I get y’all anything else?”

Me and Bella answered in sync: a firm nod.

We ended up ordering the same thing as our parents—burgers and fries—but I kept mine plain, while Bella got hers like her dad’s, loaded up with onions and pickles. We both opted for sodas instead of coffee, and when the food arrived, we dove in like we hadn’t eaten in days.

Mom looked half-concerned, half-amused. “You two sure were hungry, huh?”

“We, um… didn’t eat lunch,” I mumbled between bites, trying not to make it sound like a big deal.

Charlie glanced up. “Any reason why?”

Bella and I exchanged a glance before I answered, “It’s… complicated.”

“You know you’re gonna have to explain that eventually, right?” Mom said, that protective edge in her voice already sharpening.

“I know, Ma. But seriously—nothing major happened.”

Bella jumped in, backing me up. “Yeah, we were just distracted, that’s all. First-day stuff.”

Mom didn’t look entirely convinced, but she let it go—for now.

Eventually, we started gathering our things. No need to carpool back—we figured it was easier for me to ride with my mum and them to go back home togethor in their own cars, Less fuss that way. Before parting ways, Bella and I exchanged numbers, a quick text already sent to make sure it saved.

Then we headed out into the drizzle. Bella and her dad exchanged a quick “drive safe” before they split, each heading toward their own car.

Me and my mom walked together toward the Mustang, but we hadn’t even made it halfway across the lot when I heard it—this soft, desperate little mew—followed by the sound of a car speeding up.

It was hard to see at first, with the light rain coming down and the gray casting everything in blur, but then I spotted her.

There, in the middle of the street, soaked through and barely more than a handful, stood a kitten. She couldn't be more than a few weeks old. Tiny. Shivering. Her fur clung to her skin, and her mismatched eyes—one hazel, one crystal blue—darted around in panic, searching. Probably for her mother. Probably too late.

And the car wasn’t slowing down.

Something in me just cracked. I saw her and—I don’t know—I saw myself. Alone. Small. Lost. For a long time it had been just me and my mom too. But this little one… she had no one.

I couldn’t just stand there and do nothing. I wouldn’t.

Before I could even think it through, I ran. The car was closing in fast. I prayed they’d see me. Maybe they’d stop. Maybe not. But even if they didn’t—at least the kitten would have a chance. Or maybe I could take the hit for her. I know how stupid that sounds. But it felt right. Even if it made no sense at all.

I hit the street just as she let out another tiny mew. Almost like a thank you. Like she knew I was coming for her.

Behind me, I could hear my mom’s voice rising in panic. “Elodie!”

But I didn’t stop.

I braced myself, heart pounding. The headlights cut through the drizzle. I could see the reflection in the wet asphalt, closer—closer—

I shut my eyes.

And then—
A deafening squeal of brakes.

Then… nothing but rain.

I opened my eyes. Inches away, a sleek silver Volvo sat still, its windshield wipers slicing across the glass. For a second I thought I heard the click of a door unlocking—but maybe that was just my pulse in my ears. The car didn’t move. Didn’t honk. Didn’t flash its lights. Just… waited.

Then I felt arms around me. My mom tackled me back from the road, gripping my shoulders as she looked me over, her hands frantic.

“Are you hurt?!”

Her voice had that tremble, thick with fear. She wasn’t just scared—she was terrified. And seeing her like that hit harder than anything else could’ve.

I just nodded, not knowing what to say. Not knowing how to explain what had taken over me. But she didn’t wait for words—she just pulled me into a hug, one so tight it felt like she was scared I’d disappear if she let go.

In the background, I could hear murmurs—people starting to gather. Bella and Charlie were among them. Bella looked even paler than usual, one hand over her mouth. Her dad—he didn’t show much, but even from here, I could see it in his eyes. He was rattled too.

But the hug didn’t last.

Skye pulled back, her jaw trembling with emotion as she stared at me—wet-eyed, furious, shaken.

“WHAT the hell were you thinkin’, Elodie?!”

She never yells. Not like that. Not at me. But her voice echoed off the pavement, cracked and raw.

I flinched.

I didn’t have an answer.

But then I heard the kitten again. That tiny, pathetic sound.

I let go of my mom—she looked startled—and turned toward the little creature, still sitting exactly where I’d left her. Her big eyes stared up at me like I’d saved her entire world.

I knelt, scooping her gently into my hands, soaked fur and all. She was light as a feather. Warm. Real.

I turned back to my mom, holding her out, my voice barely a whisper.

“This is why.”

Skye stared, her expression twisted with so much at once—anger, fear, grief. But somewhere under it all… understanding. A piece of her got it, even if the rest of her wanted to scream.

She didn’t say a word, just pressed her lips together and walked me to the sidewalk, one hand on my back.

Charlie had started dispersing the small crowd. Bella hadn’t moved yet, not until we were closer—then suddenly she was at my side, throwing an arm around me in this sideways tackle of a hug.

“Are you out of your mind?” she muttered into my ear, still stunned.

“Sorry,” I mumbled.

But as she squeezed me one last time, she added under her breath, “Don’t be.”

And when I glanced over, she was looking down at the kitten too—with something almost like pride.

Behind us, the silver Volvo’s engine hummed to life. It started forward slowly, all its windows still tinted dark. I never saw the driver. But they didn’t honk. Didn’t rush. And as they passed, they slowed again, just a bit—as if to say they were sorry too.

After he cleared the crowd, Charlie came over. He looked at me like he didn’t quite know what to make of what he was seeing—not in a bad way, just… surprised. But there was something else in his expression too, something gentler. Admiration, maybe.

I glanced down at the little kitten curled up against my chest, her tiny body shivering even with the shelter of my jacket. She was trying so hard to stay warm. I looked back up at Charlie.

“Charlie,” I asked, voice low, “do you know where I can find a vet’s clinic? I… I need to make sure she’s okay.”

Concern weighed down every word.

Charlie looked toward my mom, as if silently checking with her. She gave a small nod, still quiet.

“Do you have a pen an—” he began, but Bella jumped in.

“No need, Dad—just tell me the name of the clinic.” She was already pulling out her phone, GPS open.

But before she could enter anything, she paused and glanced toward my mom, a flicker of uncertainty in her expression. “Um… Miss Matthew? Would it be okay if I went with Elodie to the vet?”

My mom didn’t answer right away. She hadn’t really said much since I showed her the kitten. And that—honestly—was strange. My mom’s always been a talker. A storyteller. It felt… off, her silence.

Still, she nodded, not at Bella but at the space between us.

Bella gave her a small, reassuring smile before turning back to her dad. “What’s the name?”

“Since Forks is small, the clinic’s inside the local hospital,” Charlie explained. “Forks Community Hospital. Can’t miss it.”

“Thanks, Charlie,” I said softly.

I wasn’t sure what to say to Mom. How do you leave someone behind when they’re clearly not okay? When I turned to her, she met my eyes. And then she reached out and gently grabbed my wrist, careful not to jostle the kitten.

“Don’t be long, okay?” she said. Her voice was faint, like she was still catching up to everything that had happened.

“I promise, Ma.” I say, in gentle tone

Then I turned and followed Bella toward her truck, the cold already biting deeper as we stepped off the curb.