CARLA

I stepped out of my bedroom, the floorboards cold against my bare feet, and the scent of sizzling butter hit me before I even reached the hallway.

I didn't need to check the time to know my mom was not home. She’d been pulling double shifts at the clinic for a week, trying all her best to build a future for us.

I used to think her version of a future was as bleak as her taste in fashion, or anything but two weeks ago, that changed.

I rounded the corner into the kitchen and stopped dead.

Blake was right there standing by the stove, his back to me....