When she was alive, I had never spoken to her for even a single day.
And yet, somehow, I'm the one who understands her the most. I can feel the shape of her pain without her even saying it. Maybe it's because I stepped into the life she left behind. Maybe it's because I've been trapped in the same kind of darkness before.
So when I realized she was still here still breathing, still standing in front of me joy hit me so hard my chest ached.
I hugged her tight, like if I let go, she'd disappear again.
"Thank God," I whispered, the words spilling out messy. "Thank God you're still here."
A voice cut through the moment from behind us sweet, sugary, too polished to be real. "Janice… who is this?"
Other people's family drama usually isn't my business.
But Riley? Riley is not "other people" to me.
