My phone buzzes on the nightstand.
For one reckless second, I consider ignoring it.
But too many people depend on me.
Too many things can go wrong in the space of one unanswered notification.
I reach for it. A text waits on the screen.
Unknown: Goodnight, Maverick. Consider this an open line of communication.
Damn it.
I stare at the words far longer than I should.
Adriana’s face rises in my mind.
Then, Elena, my daughter’s.
For years, they’ve been the last faces I see before sleep. The first ghosts waiting for me when I wake.
But tonight, their faces blur.
Amelia’s smile takes shape.
Olivia’s fierce little eyes.
A future I have no right to imagine settles beside a past I couldn’t protect.
And I make a decision I hate with every fiber of my being.
I don’t text her back.
Not because I don’t want to.
Because I want to too much.
Because I already know that if I open this door, I won’t be able to close it again.
I set the phone facedown on the nightstand and stare at the ceiling.
For several minutes, I don’t move.
Then the phone buzzes again.
I close my eyes.
“Don’t,” I mutter to myself.
I pick it up anyway.
UNKNOWN: Also, this is Amelia. Well, Mia. Obviously. Unless you gave your number to another tired sanctuary owner with a nosy ten-year-old today.
A laugh breaks out of me before I can stop it.
Soft.
Rusty.
