Chapter 2

Saturday mornings were sacred in the Hale household.

No alarm clocks. No rushing. Just Shayla and Ayven, laundry baskets piled high, music playing from her phone propped on the windowsill, and the kind of easy companionship that made everything else fade into background noise.

"Momma, you're folding that shirt wrong," Ayven said from his spot on the floor, surrounded by a mountain of socks that needed pairing.

Shayla looked down at the perfectly folded t-shirt in her hands, then back at her son. "What exactly is wrong with it?"

"The seams aren't aligned. If you fold it properly, it takes up less space in the drawer, which means more efficient storage." He demonstrated with one of his own shirts, his small hands moving with surprising precision. "See?"

She blinked. "You're seven."

"And you're twenty-seven, but I don't see you optimizing drawer space." He shot her a cheeky grin, and Shayla couldn't help but laugh.

"Where do you even learn this stuff?"

"YouTube. Organizational hacks for small spaces." He shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Our apartment isn't exactly a mansion, Momma. We have to be strategic."

Strategic. Her seven-year-old used the word strategic without a hint of irony.

Shayla shook her head, smiling as she refolded the shirt using Ayven's method. "You know most kids your age are playing video games on Saturday mornings, right?"

"Most kids my age can't hold a conversation about quantum physics either, but here we are." Ayven matched another pair of socks—hers, the fuzzy purple ones Ruby had bought her last Christmas. "Besides, doing laundry with you is fun. We get to talk."

Her chest tightened. God, she loved this kid. Loved him so much it sometimes scared her, this overwhelming, all-consuming love that made her want to wrap him in bubble wrap and protect him from every sharp edge the world had to offer.

"What do you want to talk about?" she asked, settling cross-legged on the floor beside him.

Ayven tilted his head, considering. "Do you think parallel universes exist?"

"I—what?"

"Parallel universes. The theory that there are infinite versions of reality existing simultaneously, and every choice we make creates a branching timeline." He said it so casually, like he was asking about the weather. "I've been reading about it."

Shayla stared at him. "You've been reading about theoretical physics?"

"The library has a great science section." He paired another set of socks, completely unbothered by her shock. "So do you think they exist?"

She opened her mouth, closed it, then laughed. "Honestly, baby, I have no idea. That's... really complex stuff."

"But interesting, right?"

"Very interesting." She reached over and ruffled his hair, earning a mock groan of protest. "You're going to be a scientist one day, aren't you?"

"Maybe. Or an engineer. Or a mathematician." Ayven looked up at her, his blue eyes—*his father's eyes*—bright with curiosity. "I haven't decided yet. I'm only seven. I have time."

"That you do." Shayla's voice softened. "You can be anything you want, Ayven. Anything."

"Even an astronaut?"

"Even an astronaut."

"Cool." He went back to the socks, satisfied. "I'll add that to the list."

They fell into comfortable silence, working through the laundry pile with practiced efficiency. Shayla found herself watching him more than once, this impossible little human she'd created, who spoke like a teenager and thought like someone far beyond his years. His IQ was off the charts—she'd known that since he was three and started reading chapter books on his own. The school had tested him twice, both times coming back with results that made the counselors suggest skipping grades.

But Shayla had refused. He was already so different from other kids his age. She didn't want to isolate him further by putting him in classes with children years older. Let him be seven, even if his mind operated at the level of a high schooler.

Her phone rang, Ruby's name flashing across the screen.

Shayla wiped her hands on her jeans and answered, putting it on speaker. "Hey, Rubes."

"Mama bear, did you check the internet?" Ruby's voice came through urgently, and there was the distinct sound of traffic in the background—honking horns, Ruby's muttered curse at what was probably a terrible driver.

"I've been busy, Ruby. I've got no time to browse the internet." Shayla shot Ayven an amused look as another string of creative profanity filtered through the phone.

"Move your ass, jackass!" Ruby yelled, clearly not at Shayla. "Sorry, not you. These drivers are idiots. Anyway, listen—that's why you haven't been able to get a good job. You're not looking in the right places."

Shayla frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"A new firm just opened. There are vacancies, but the only slot left is for a personal assistant. It's like a group of companies, and they just opened their headquarters here. Like, *here* here. In the city." Ruby's excitement was palpable even through the phone. "This is huge, Shay. You need to apply."

"A personal assistant position at a major firm?" Shayla's stomach sank. "Ruby, that would need serious qualifications. Someone with years of experience, probably advanced degrees. For a PA at that level, they'd probably need someone with a PhD."

"Momma, you don't need a PhD," Ayven piped up, abandoning his sock pile to crawl closer to the phone. "You're smart and the most beautiful woman on planet earth. They should hire you already."

"Clock that, big boy!" Ruby's voice boomed through the speaker, and Shayla could practically hear her grinning.

"Period," Ayven said, nodding sagely.

Shayla burst out laughing, covering her face with her hands. "You two are trouble. The highest order of trouble."

"We prefer 'dynamic duo,'" Ruby corrected. "But seriously, Shay, you have everything they could want. You studied pre-med, which shows you can handle pressure and complex information. You've got your business certifications. You've worked two jobs for years without missing a beat. You're organized, brilliant, and professional as hell. Stop selling yourself short."

Shayla bit her lip, doubt creeping in the way it always did. "I don't know..."

"Momma." Ayven's small hand found hers, squeezing tight. His expression was serious, far too serious for someone his age. "You tell me all the time that I can be anything I want. That I shouldn't be scared to try new things. Doesn't that apply to you too?"

Her heart squeezed. When did her son become so wise?

"He's right," Ruby added, her voice gentler now. "You deserve this. You deserve a chance at something better than killing yourself at two dead-end jobs. Just send the application. What's the worst that could happen?"

Shayla looked down at Ayven, at his hopeful expression and those too-blue eyes, and felt something shift in her chest. Maybe it was time to stop playing it safe. Maybe it was time to take a risk, even if it scared her.

"Okay," she said finally, the word coming out on an exhale. "I'll check it out and send my CV for the application."

"Yes!" Ruby cheered, and Ayven pumped his fist in the air like he'd just won a championship.

"But I'm not getting my hopes up," Shayla warned, even as something that felt dangerously like hope bloomed in her chest. "They probably have hundreds of applicants."

"Then you'll be the one who stands out," Ruby said firmly. "Now go. Apply before I come over there and do it for you."

"I'm going, I'm going." Shayla shook her head, smiling despite herself. "Thanks, Rubes."

"That's what I'm here for. Love you, mama bear."

"Love you too."

The call ended, and Shayla sat there for a moment, phone in hand, staring at nothing in particular.

"You're going to get it," Ayven said confidently, returning to his sock pile. "I can feel it."

"Oh, you can feel it?"

"Yep. My gut is never wrong." He paired the last set of socks with a satisfied nod. "Trust me, Momma. This is going to change everything."

Shayla reached over and pulled him into a hug, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "When did you get so smart?"

"I've always been smart," he mumbled against her shoulder. "You just notice it more when I say things that make you feel better."

She laughed, holding him tighter. "I love you, you know that?"

"I know." He pulled back, grinning. "Now go apply for that job before Ruby shows up and yells at both of us."

"Yes, sir." Shayla stood, brushing off her jeans, and headed for her laptop.

Maybe Ayven was right. Maybe this would change everything.

Or maybe it would be just another rejection in a long line of them.

Either way, she had to try.