Twelve
Brooklyn
I’m not sure if it’s the morning light or the fact I ate an actual meal last night thanks to Wyatt, but regardless, I wake up a little less depressed and with a little more energy.
After some coffee, I pull out my phone and dial Reagan’s number. It’s time I spoke to my bestie.
She answers on the first ring. “Okay, we really need to discuss where I fit in your life.”
A sad chuckle leaves my lips. “Are you at work?”
“No. I’m at the nursing home. Mom’s becoming combative.”
I sit on the couch. “I’m sorry.”
“I know you are. I just hope I don’t get fired. I mean, Mr. Clayton always understood, but he’s from Lake Starlight and knows Mom. This new guy, although he’s so cute I could eat him up with a spoon, he seems stricter. He’s constantly jotting down notes in his phone.”
