Page 32 of Silent Neighbor

As they pulled up to the station, its brick facade looming dark and imposing in the night, Finn turned to Sheila. "Thanks for the ride," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. Then, before she could react, he leaned in and kissed her.

The kiss was gentle but insistent, and Sheila found herself momentarily caught off guard by Finn's boldness. When they parted, she could see a mixture of affection and uncertainty in his eyes, the emotions warring for dominance.

"Goodnight, Sheila," he said, climbing out of the car. "I'll see you in the morning." The door closed with a soft thud, leaving Sheila alone with her thoughts.

As Sheila drove home, her mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. She knew she was going to have to have a conversation with Finn at some point about their future and the speed at which they were taking their relationship. But it wasn't a conversation she was looking forward to. The complexity of balancing her professional life with her personal relationships weighed heavily on her.

The streets gave way to more residential areas as Sheila neared home. Houses with neatly trimmed lawns and white picket fences lined the quiet streets, each one a picture of suburban tranquility. A cat darted across the road, its eyes glowing eerily in her headlights before it disappeared into the shadows, a reminder of the hidden life that continued even in the quietest moments of the night.

As she pulled into her driveway, the familiar sight of her modest home a welcome anchor in the sea of uncertainty she'd been navigating, Sheila took a deep breath, trying to clear her mind. The scent of rain-soaked earth filled her nostrils, grounding her in the present moment.

Whatever Star wanted to talk about, it deserved her full attention. She couldn't let her professional concerns or her complicated feelings about Finn distract her.

The house was quiet as she entered, the soft click of the door closing behind her echoing in the stillness. But a warm light spilled from the living room, beckoning her forward. Star was curled up on the couch, a book open in her lap, though her eyes weren't focused on the pages. She looked up as Sheila walked in, her young face a mix of nervousness and determination.

"Hey," Sheila said, dropping her keys on the side table with a metallic clatter that seemed too loud in the quiet house. "Sorry, I'm so late. You wanted to talk about something?"

Star nodded, setting her book aside. The soft thud of it closing seemed to underscore the seriousness of the moment. "Yeah, I... I've been thinking a lot about… things."

"Things?"

Star frowned, clearly unsure how to get to the heart of the matter. "Like… where I'm going to live, you know?"

Sheila felt a knot form in her stomach. She'd known this conversation was coming, but she still wasn't sure she was ready for it. "Okay," she said, trying to keep her voice neutral, though she could hear the slight tremor in it. "What are you thinking?"

Star took a deep breath, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her shirt, a nervous habit Sheila had noticed before. "Well, the thing is... I've been talking to my Aunt Sarah. You know, my mom's sister? She lives in Colorado."

Sheila nodded. Yes, she thought Star had mentioned her before. "What about her?"

"She's offered to let me come live with her," Star said in a rush, the words tumbling out as if she'd been holding them back for too long. "She has a spare room, and there's a good school nearby, and..."

Star trailed off, her eyes searching Sheila's face for a reaction. Sheila felt her heart skip a beat, a mixture of emotions washing over her: relief that Star had found a potential permanent home, sadness at the thought of her leaving, guilt that she hadn't been able to provide the stability Star needed.

"That's… terrific," she said, doing her best to focus on the positives. "You must be excited."

For several moments, Star said nothing. There was no excitement in her face—only sadness.

"The thing is," Star said, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes shining with unshed tears, "I don't want to go."

---