Page 36 of Well Aware

Sometimes she even slipped her a bottle of apple juice when I had the money to buy them from the store.

Which, admittedly, wasn’t very often.

I’d had a series of unfortunate events lately.

One, the washer and the dryer went out at the same time, requiring me to buy new ones.

Second, there was a plumbing issue in my house that I’d bought that’d required me to move out of said house for two months while all of the old plumbing was replaced. Not only did the repairs on my house cost a whack, but I also had to pay rent two months at an apartment.

Third, the fees for the private investigator that I had constantly running around to keep an eye on Cain McDuff had nearly tripled. With the price of fuel going up, they’d had to raise their prices.

Fourth, my car had broken down, and I’d had to buy a new one.

Fifth, the private school that I sent Iris to had increased their annual fees. And, seeing as she was doing so well in the school that she was in, I hated to move her.

Adding all that into the money that I put aside each month in case I needed to pay a lawyer to fight for Iris, I was Broke. Broke with a capital B.

Hence the reason I was so tired.

I’d had to get a second job.

Luckily, the job was fun and easy—most of the time.

I worked at the clinic in town as the receptionist.

They worked well with my schedule, as well as allowed Iris to hang out in the break room once she was done with school.

Ultimately, I’d lucked out with both of my jobs and my childcare situation.

I was sad that I wouldn’t be at the clinic for long.

It was too bad that I couldn’t keep the same job after I retired from soccer. I loved the people and the environment. I thrived in chaos.

Today was a clinic day with a light practice in the late afternoon.

Tomorrow was our second-to-last season game—the second-to-last of my entire career—and I was really looking forward to it. It was against the first-place team in the league…and my old team.

It was bound to be exciting, if not a little sad.

I’d liked the players there, but not the coaching staff.

I’d probably have retired there had it not been for them.

Iris had just gotten to the end of sidewalk when a revved engine caught my attention.

Heart in my throat, I could do nothing but watch in horror as the car sped down the street, heading right for Iris.

“Iris!” I called as the bus driver started to lay on their horn.

The car didn’t slow.

I started running, knowing that I couldn’t get there in time but not caring.

“Iris,” I repeated.

It all happened in slow motion.

Iris stepped off the sidewalk, right in the path of the speeding car.