LOGIN~ Mara ~ As I lie on the bed while the morning light creeps in, I feel like something settled overnight, even if nothing actually got resolved. My parents are already dressed when I walk into the living room. Their bags are by the door. My mother is checking through hers one last time, while my father stands still, like he’s making sure he hasn’t forgotten something he can’t go back for. They’re leaving. That part comes quicker than I expected. “You’re up,” my mother says, looking at me. “I couldn’t sleep much,” I reply. She nods like she understands that without asking why. Because she does. Lily runs in a second later, her hair still messy and her energy already back. “Are you going?” she asks, stopping in front of them. “Yes,” my father answers. She frowns slightly. “Already?” “We have work,” my mother says gently. Lily nods, but I can tell she doesn’t like it. She steps forward anyway and hugs them both, quick but real. “Bye,” she says. “Bye, sweetheart,” m
~ Cole ~ As Morning light creeps in I’m already up before everyone else, Coffee in hand, Phone on the counter. Messages are stacked from the night before, detailing contracts, numbers, and locations. Everything is changing. Everything is moving forward, whether anyone’s ready or not. Behind me, I hear footsteps. They're heavier. It isn't Mara; it's her father. “You’re up early,” he says, his voice rough with sleep but firm. I don’t turn immediately. I take a sip of my coffee first. Then, “Always am.” He walks in slowly, stopping a few feet away. Not too close, but not distant either. We stand there like that for a second. Two men. Same room. Same woman in mind. Different worlds. “You meant what you said last night?” he asks. I glance at him. “About?” “The house,” he replies. “The paperwork.” “I don’t say things I’m not doing,” I answer. He studies me. It isn't aggressive, just careful. “How far along is it?” “Already moving,” I say. “Documents are being process
~ Mara ~ I knew it was coming. Not during dinner. Not in front of everyone. But eventually. There’s a certain look my parents have when they’re holding something in. My mother had it the entire night—a tight smile, watching everything, waiting. So when she walks up to me from the guest room and says, “Mara, can we talk?” I don’t pretend to be surprised. “Yeah,” I reply quietly, setting my phone down. My father’s already inside, standing near the window with his hands clasped behind his back. It's the same posture he used when I was a teenager and in trouble. That almost makes me laugh, almost. I step inside and close the door behind me. The room feels smaller than it should. Or maybe it’s just the way they’re both looking at me, like this isn’t just a conversation. It’s an intervention. My mother sits on the edge of the bed and pats the space beside her. “Come here,” she says gently. I don’t move closer. I stay right where I am by the door. “I’m okay here,” I tell her.
~ Cole ~ I don’t argue with them. That’s the first thing I’m trying to change about myself. I’ve spent most of my life answering pressure with pressure, meeting doubt with force, and ending conversations instead of letting them play out. Tonight, I let it sit, the tension, the questions. The way Mara went quiet when they started talking about space, about stability, about what she doesn’t have yet. And Lily—that one question. Do we have to move? It stays. Long after dinner ends. Long after Mara’s parents stop talking. Long after the plates are cleared and the house settles into that silence that feels heavier than noise. Mara’s in the living room with her mother, their voices low as they talk, Lily’s at the table, colouring again, but slower now. Thinking more than drawing. I don’t interrupt either of them. I step outside, pull out my phone, and make the call. It rings once. “Gary speaking,” the agent answers, smooth like always. “It’s Cole,” I say. There’s a paus
~ Mara ~ By the time Dinner is served, it feels too small for everything sitting at the table. The plates are full. But no one is eating. My mother keeps adjusting her fork like it’s slightly out of place. My father hasn’t touched his food at all. He’s watching Cole without pretending not to. Cole sits across from them, relaxed in a way that isn’t actually relaxed. Lily swings her legs under the chair beside me, humming softly, completely unaware she’s the only one breathing normally in this room. I clear my throat. “I wanted to tell you something,” I say, my voice steady even though my chest feels tight. My mother looks at me first. “What is it?” I glance down at my hands for a second. Then I say it. “I’m pregnant.” Silence. My mother blinks once. My father leans back slowly in his chair. Lily stops humming. “You’re what?” my mother asks, her voice quieter now. “Pregnant,” I repeat, lifting my head. Her eyes move quickly to my stomach. Then
~ Lily ~ The house feels smaller. I don’t know why. It’s the same. Same couch. Same table. Same spot where my sock got lost that one time. But it feels different. Like when you wear your shoes for too long and they start to feel tight even though they still fit. I sit on the floor with my colouring book, but I’m not really colouring. I’m just… moving the crayon. “Mama,” I say, looking up at her. She’s in the kitchen again. She’s always in the kitchen now. “Yeah, baby?” she answers, but she doesn’t look at me right away. “Are we moving?” I ask. She pauses. Just a little. Then she turns. “Why would you ask that?” she says, her voice soft. I shrug. “It feels like it.” She studies me. Like I said something important. “I don’t know yet,” she admits, walking closer. “Why? Do you want to?” I think about it. Then shake my head. “Maybe.” She smiles a little. I look down at my drawing again. Then back up
Mara I felt it everyday the moment I woke up. Before memory caught up. Before guilt. Before fear. My body knew. There was a lump in my chest that had nothing to do with regret and everything to do with recognition. The kind that sits deep, stubborn, undeniable. I lay there staring at the
Mara She didn’t introduce herself. She didn’t have to. That witch, Vanessa stood in front of me like she belonged there, like the sidewalk outside Lily’s school was her territory and I was the one trespassing. Polished hair. Perfect posture. A smile that didn’t reach her eyes. I knew that
Mara The space beside me was cold when I woke up. Not just empty. Cleared. I lay still for a moment, eyes open, breathing shallow, taking inventory of what was missing before I let myself register what remained. The sheet was folded back on his side. The pillow gone. Even the faint weight i
Mara The ride was quiet. Not awkward. Not heavy with forced conversation. Just quiet in the way that made my thoughts louder than the engine beneath us. Cole didn’t touch me more than necessary. His hand stayed steady at my waist, firm enough to keep me balanced, distant enough to r







