Page 84 of What Goes Around

I studied her.

“So you didn’t take even one?” I asked neutrally. “Not you. Not Dad. Nothing from the hospital at all?”

“When you think your child might die,” she said slowly, “you don’t reach for a camera.”

I nodded. “That makes sense.”

It didn’t.

By the time we reached the counter, Marissa was distracted, her mind clearly elsewhere. The clerk rang everything through, dress after dress, Apple’s pile noticeably higher than mine.

Marissa barely reacted until the total flashed on the screen.

She paused, her eyes dropping to the card already waiting in her hand, and for a moment, she didn’t move. Then, as if making a silent decision, she opened her wallet and slid out another card from a narrow inner sleeve, one I had never seen before.

Her fingers tightened around it before she handed it to the clerk.

When she tucked it away again, her eyes flicked to me, and she flinched.

Interesting.

The clerk handed us our bags.

Apple beamed. “Mom, today was perfect.”

Marissa stroked her hair.

“Whatever makes you happy,” she murmured. “Whatever makes my babies happy.”

I smiled faintly.

And memorized everything.

Chapter 26: Not the Same Life

Months passed. In my past life, I remembered how small those milestones had felt, how overshadowed I’d been, how everything revolved around Apple’s achievements.

But in this life I’d already pushed myself onto a new trajectory. One that didn’t orbit anyone but me.

I made my college choice.

Massachusetts Institute of Technology. MIT.

In my previous life I had chosen Utah Valley University so I could follow Payton.

Well, so I could really follow Nick.

He was already there, a year ahead, and I’d convinced myself proximity was destiny. With Payton we’d shared the same childhood dream, rehearsed the plan since we were nine: same school, same dorm, late-night study sessions.

This time, I broke the script.

I didn’t tell Payton I was applying to MIT until my decision was locked and irreversible.

She cried.

Confused tears, hurt tears.

She didn’t understand what had changed, because in this life she hadn’t done anything wrong. She was still the girl who braided my hair at sleepovers and believed our friendship was permanent.