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M y forehead makes excruciating contact with the window as I’m thrown from sleep for the third time.

I rub the sore spot, regretting the last six hours, four of them spent in dream land.

After, I move onto rubbing the tight muscle on my neck.

Add sleeping in a car to the list of things I never want to experience again.

“Sora!” Beyond my rolled-up window, my best friend scowls at me and I’m surprised the glass doesn’t shatter.

“Hey, Lana,” I manage to say in a raised voice after my heart stops pounding like mad.

“Hey, Lana? Hey, Lana?!” She shoots another menacing gaze my way, her hands tightening at her hips. Her words are muffled through the glass, but I still catch her angry tone.

I squint from the morning sun as I get out, soaking in the hot rays over my skin. It feels heavenly considering I’m still wet from the torrential downpour last night.

“If I didn’t love you more than my sister, I would kick your ass for sleeping in your car!” She notices my soaked dress, which feels a pound heavier. “And why are you wet?”

Lana has been like an older sister to me.

Even though we’re the same age, she was always the more levelheaded one out of the two of us.

The more responsible one. She always looked out for me.

Not that I was getting into trouble all the time, but I am more rebellious.

Someone who took more risks. Doing things spontaneously.

Hence my current situation.

She’s shorter than me, her five four to my five eight, so I smile slightly down at her, and I do it apologetically.

Her doll-like paleness only makes her more stunning.

She’s gotten even more beautiful at the age of thirty, which I didn’t believe to be possible.

Her long, flowing black hair shines with lavender peekaboo highlights.

Her almond-shaped eyes are the darkest I’ve seen, but they hold only kindness.

And I’m lucky to still be able to call her my best friend, especially when I was the lousiest of them all.

“It’s been one hell of a night, and I didn’t want to wake you.” I sag in defeat, but Lana is already there, closing the distance and pulling me into the biggest, warmest hug.

Yes . This is what I need—I need my best friend. The stability. Her comfort. Her wisdom, because right now I am trying my best not to fall apart.

“I missed you so much,” she whispers, squeezing me tighter.

“I missed you too. More than you’ll ever know.” Those words never held more truth. Don’t cry. Do not cry.

We pull apart, her shirt newly damp.

“Come on. Let’s get you in the hot shower and some dry clothes.” She drapes her arm around my shoulders and walks me into her duplex. For twelve long years, the mansion was my home, but Lana's place feels warmer. Calmer. It’s not dull or cold.

While growing up, my dad worked his ass off to keep the trailer we lived in. It wasn’t anything grand, but it was home. And this most closely resembles that love.

Inside, vibrant colors and paintings blanket the walls. I’m not surprised. Lana's talented work deserves display.

After my shower, which was divine, I dress in the leggings and sweatshirt she lent me.

I don’t have any of my things since running was the only choice I had.

Now I regret not having a small bag with a stash of clothes inside the car.

I’ll honestly see none of it again, but I couldn’t care less.

I can’t go back. I won’t go back. Not to that life.

In the kitchen, Lana smiles, coffee in hand. A quirky mug holds the same delicious goodness, waiting for me, and the aroma makes me salivate.

“You’re the best.” I soak in the warmth from the mug, tasting the caramelized, sweet flavor.

We’re surrounded by vintage flowers. Besides being artsy, Lana is also the earthy, old soul type. Me? I’m not sure what my style is. Or if I had a place of my own, how would I even decorate it? It’s sad, but I still have no idea who I am.

My attention falls back to my friend, who’s still wearing a warm smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Go ahead. Ask me. I know you’re dying to find out why I showed up at your doorstep after years of being MIA.” Who can blame her? If I was Lana, I’d want to know too.

With a relaxing sigh, she goes for it. “My only question right now is… how are you doing?”

I pretend to study the orange painted mug bursting with yellow sunflowers because that’s a loaded question. How am I doing? On one side of the spectrum, I’m relieved. But I am completely and utterly terrified. How can I live as if the past twelve years never happened?

“I expected a more intense question,” I say, taking a sip of coffee.

“Like?”

“Like…” I set down my mug, leaning forward on her cute nineteen fifties diner table. “What the hell happened, Sora? Why haven’t I heard or seen from you in years? All fair questions to want answers to.”

Lana doesn’t know the full story. She only knows the bare minimum. And a story I half made up. I met a guy and we got married. The end.

“Actually, fuck that. What I really want to ask is, what took you so damn long?”

I smirk. There’s my best friend I know and love.

She met Jason once. At our wedding. Without pleading, she wouldn't have received an invitation.

As far as my old life was concerned, Jason made it clear that it was dead and gone.

But after heavily convincing him on my part, he allowed her to attend.

I stressed that her absence from what was supposed to be one of the happiest days of my life would raise questions about why my best friend wasn't there. To her, he was fine. A regular sophisticated businessman, but when she found how much older he was than me… shit hit the fan. Lana called him a predator, and well, she wasn’t entirely wrong.

He is the man hiding behind an invisible mask.

“There’s always a straw that broke the camel's back,” I tell her. And there was. The push I finally needed and wanted.

“Okay.” She studies my reaction with a jaw clenching tension. “I know you better than anyone, and I know you aren’t ready to talk about it. But when you are ready, I’ll be here to listen.”

“Thanks. I love you.”

“I know.” She smiles. “But you are going to tell me what happened between you running away and sleeping in my driveway. In your car.”

I flash a toothy smile and tell her the wild story of my late-night shenanigans starting and ending with Mr. Grump.

“Ohhhh. So, you met Logan.” She smiles over the brim of her mug.

Logan. So, his name is Logan, and she apparently knows him.

“I called him George.”

She snorts, sending a splash over the rim. “You called him George? Why?”

“The sign. I thought it was his shop.” I sheepishly shrug, thinking it to be a reasonable mistake.

“Ah. Technically, it is his shop. But George was his father.”

I wait for Lana to elaborate, but when she doesn’t, I don’t push. It isn’t her story to tell, and she must understand that.

She gets up, then sets her empty cup in the sink. “I suppose I should mention the plot twist in all this. Your grumpy tow truck man lives next door.”

I choke on my coffee, letting out a cough before catching my breath. “Come again? Next door. Like… he shares a wall with you? This wall?” I thought I’d never have to show my face around him ever again. What are the odds? Apparently high.

She laughs. “Calm down. He’s barely ever home. I think he sleeps at the shop a lot. Guess it makes sense if he’s on call at night.”

Guess it does.

“He’s not that bad. Mostly quiet, perhaps a little grouchy, but he’s a softie underneath all that bigness.” Her sly grin has me wondering if there’s a hidden meaning behind the word choice of big.

“His bigness, Lana?” I ask in chuckle.

“I meant because of his large size.”

“Mmmm,” I hum.

“Ugh, his body size. Not his…” She pauses. “Although I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s packing one hell of—”

“Never mind.” I hold up a firm hand. “I get it. He’s a large man. Tall with muscles.”

“That he is. But I’m not talking from experience, of course. There is nothing romantic happening between me and him. Sure, he’s been here enough times, always fixing something. A leaky pipe. Squeaky cabinet. But that’s about it.”

A part of me, for reasons unknown, is pleased to hear that. Maybe because Lana and him don’t seem like a good mix. She’s bubbly and he’s… him.

Logan.

“A brotherly sister bond,” I suggest.

“I’d say more of a distant cousin. One you only see on holidays and family reunions.”

Still, I can’t believe he lives next door. He shares a wall with Lana and now me. And I’m not even sure how long I’ll stay.

Lana leaves the kitchen counter she was previously leaning on, pinning me with a look of concern and I know a maternal talk is coming. “You can stay here for as long as you need, Sora. I mean that. My home is your home. Never forget it.”

My heart swells. “I know, and I’m incredibly lucky to have you. But I don’t want to impose on you forever. I just need to lie low for a bit and come up with some sort of life plan.”

She knows me too well, so when I say life plan, I wonder if she’s taking me seriously.

I go back on my word, but that was mostly early high school.

Being young, I should get a pass. I then became less depressed and less crazy.

I suppose I have my dad to thank for that.

But a part of me will always retain that side. It just becomes less noticeable.

“Does he know?” She’s talking about Jason. “Sorry. That’s the only question I’ll ask. I promise.”

“That I left? By now, absolutely. Does he know where to? No.” A twinge of worry settles in my chest. It’ll always be a constant what if. What if he finds me? What if something happens to her? And it’ll be because of me.

Jason is giving me time to panic as punishment or he doesn’t give a damn about me anymore and I’m going to say it’s the first one. Because with his manpower, it won’t be hard to find me.