By the time I got out of the cab, the city was already dimming down for the night.
Our building looked the same as always — chipped paint, a flickering light in the hallway, the faint sound of someone's TV playing too loud.
Normal. Comfortably normal.
Claire opened the door before I could reach for my keys.
"There you are," she said, folding her arms. "Was starting to think your new boss kept you hostage."
"Wouldn't surprise me," I said, forcing a small smile as I stepped inside.
She grinned. "So? First day — how bad?"
"Not bad. Just … intense. Everyone seems like they've worked there since forever."
"Give it a week. You'll fit right in."
Sophie looked up from her coloring book on the rug. "Aunt Emmy! Did you wear the shoes I picked?"
"I did," I said, dropping my bag by the couch. "They survived the day."
"Yay! You looked like a boss lady."
Her excitement pulled a laugh out of me. "That's the goal."
Mom was stretched out on the couch with her phone. "As long as that boss of yours pays on time, I'll sleep well."
"Good evening to you too, Mom," I said.
She glanced up, unimpressed. "I said something nice. That counts."
Claire rolled her eyes. "Don't mind her. Sit. I made pasta."
The smell hit me — garlic, tomato, something spicy — and my stomach growled. "You're a saint."
We sat around the small table, eating and talking about everything except work for a while. Sophie told a long story about a girl in her class who ate an eraser, and Claire was halfway through scolding her for exaggerating when Mom muttered, "Probably tasted better than some of the food these days."
That made us all laugh.
It felt good — normal — even though a small, quiet part of my brain wouldn't fully relax. The image of my boss sitting behind that desk, calm and unreadable, flickered in the back of my mind. He had a way of speaking that made you feel like he already knew what you were going to say.
Claire leaned her chin on her hand. "So, what's he like? The big boss?"
"Organized," I said after a second. "Very … focused."
"That sounds like code for scary."
"Maybe a little."
She smirked. "You'll handle him."
"I'll try."
Mom cut in, not looking up from her phone. "Focused bosses usually pay on time. That's all that matters."
Claire groaned. "Mom, can you not turn everything into money talk?"
"It's called being realistic," Mom replied. "You think rent pays itself?"
I smiled, watching them bicker. It was the kind of noise that made the apartment feel alive. Even when they drove each other crazy, it was still home.
After dinner, Sophie insisted I read her a bedtime story. She fell asleep halfway through the second page, her tiny hand still clutching my sleeve. Claire carried her off to bed, whispering something about me needing rest too.
When I finally got to my room, I changed and sat at the edge of my bed, scrolling aimlessly through my phone. There were a few messages from friends, mostly the usual — memes, questions about the new job — but my mind kept drifting.
The day had gone by faster than I expected. Between learning people's names, trying not to look lost, and pretending I belonged there, I hadn't really stopped to think about anything. Now, in the quiet, it all caught up with me.
I checked the time. 10:21 p.m.
Then a new message appeared.
Lucas Vale: Be in early tomorrow. Seven sharp.
No greeting. No emoji. Just that.
I sighed and typed back: Got it.
The reply never came, but I hadn't expected one.
I set the phone on the nightstand and stretched out, the ceiling fan humming above me. Through the window, the city lights blinked faintly, yellow and tired. Somewhere down the street, someone was playing music — a muffled rhythm that made its way through the thin walls.
It wasn't perfect here — the walls were old, the floor creaked, the paint was fading — but it was ours. And after the past few weeks, that meant everything.
I could hear Mom still talking on the phone in the living room, her voice a familiar background noise. Claire's laughter followed a few seconds later. Sophie mumbled in her sleep down the hall.
And somehow, surrounded by all that sound, I finally felt my body start to unwind.
Tomorrow would be another long day — a new one, another chance to figure out where I stood in that office full of people who seemed to already know each other. I wasn't sure yet how I fit into that world. But tonight, that didn't matter.
For now, I was home — and that was enough.