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Pulling my car into the driveway at 101 Maple Leaf Way, I glance in the rearview mirror and watch my parents pull in behind me, and Anna, who drove with Kolter, pull in behind them. With my car stuffed with what’s left of all my worldly possessions after selling everything else I owned, there was no room for anyone to ride with me when we left my parents’.

After parking I get out and take in the small butter yellow bungalow-style home with the porch light on—the white shutters, the flowerbeds overflowing with greenery that I know blooms with pink roses in the spring and summer, and the two huge ponderosa pine trees out front.

“Give me your keys, sweetheart. Kolter and I will get your stuff,” Dad says, and I pass him over my car key while Mom links her arm through mine.

“Are you ready to see your new home?” she asks as Anna joins us.

“Yeah.” I lean my weight into her as we follow Anna up the sidewalk to the front porch.

Using the key Mom passes her, Anna gets the door open, then steps aside for us to enter the house before her. It smells like fresh paint, with a touch of Chanel perfume lingering in the air from Mrs. Carberry. And it looks almost exactly like it did when I came with my dad to check the water heater a few Christmases ago. There is a small two-seater floral-print couch butting up against the window, with glass side tables and lamps on each side of it. A short wooden TV stand pressed up against the opposite wall. A round glass dining table and chairs off to the side, between the kitchen and living room. The only things missing are the lace doilies that covered every glass surface, the photos of Mrs. Carberry’s family, and the floral prints that covered the walls. I walk through the small living room and go to the kitchen, which is clean and tidy, with glass canisters on the counter, along with a coffeepot and toaster.

“We stocked you up with the basics.” Anna opens a cupboard, and I see my favorite coffee and a few other things she and Mom both know I love.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, honey.” Mom rests her hand on my lower back.

“It’s cute, right?” Anna gives me a bright smile.

“It is.” I follow her out of the kitchen and down the hallway, where there is a bathroom on one side along with the larger of the two bedrooms, and a laundry closet and another bedroom on the opposite side.

“We figured that you could add some color with a quilt and some art, but we didn’t want to do too much without you here,” Mom tells me, following us into the bigger bedroom, where there is a queen-size bed already set up with a white duvet and lots of pillows, and white curtains are hung.

“This is perfect.” I walk to the bed and press down on the mattress, which is soft but still firm. Turning, I take a seat with my throat tight. “Thank you for doing all this.”

“We really didn’t do much,” she lies, and my eyes start to water. I don’t want to cry, but being tired, I’m unable to fight back the tears I’d normally be able to keep at bay.

“It’s going to be okay.” Anna takes a seat next to me and wraps her arms around me.

“I know.” I hug her back and feel my mom circle her arms around the two of us. “I’m just really tired.” The truth is I don’t know what to do with the overwhelming feeling that I might finally be okay after spending the last year fighting to keep my head above water.

“Where do you want us to leave everything?” Dad shouts from the living room, breaking into the moment, and Anna lets me go while Mom takes hold of my face in her hands and kisses my forehead. “Hello?”

“You can just leave it all out there,” I shout back.

“Do you want some toilet paper?” Mom asks, studying me as I wipe under my eyes with the sleeve of my sweater.

“No, it’s okay.” I get off the bed and walk back out to the living room, where Dad and Kolter have stacked a few boxes already.

“Do you want us to help you unpack?” Anna asks while Kolter carries in two of my suitcases.

“No.” I catch the bags Kolter rolls my direction on the wood floors. “I’ll deal with everything in the morning.”

“You’re meeting a client at ten o’clock.” Mom reminds me that this isn’t a vacation and that I’m diving headfirst into work starting tomorrow. I’m not upset about it—I need the job my parents offered me at their real estate office, and I need the money even more.

“I know, I’ll be up early.” Plus, I’ve been in real estate since I was fifteen and selling houses since I was legally able to do so. There isn’t much to it. People either want to buy the place they look at or they don’t. And you’ll never be able to convince anyone to make such a big purchase if they aren’t ready.

“Who’s the client?” Kolter asks as the door opens and Dad comes in with two more of my suitcases.

“Wyatt,” Mom tells him, and I watch him and Anna share a look.

“What?” I frown, looking between the two of them.

“Nothing.” Mom cuts in before either of them can respond.

“It’s obviously something.” I look at Anna because I trust her to be honest. “Is he a jerk or something?”

“No, not at all.” She looks at Mom out of the corner of her eye. “He’s . . .”