Monica

Gina’s question hits me like a cold wave, a tight knot forming deep in my chest. I can feel the heat of anxiety rising in me, but I push it down, take a long drag from my cigarette, and blow the smoke up into the air, letting the familiar burn calm my nerves.

I force myself to speak steadily, my voice betraying none of the unease I feel. “It’s nothing to worry about. I’ve got it under control.”

She smiles. But before she can respond, her phone rings, snapping her out of the moment.

She quickly digs into her purse, pulls out the phone, and answers without hesitation.

“Oh,...