Page 22 of Manic

I feel tired.

But for the first time in years, I also feel...hopeful.

I throw on some yoga pants and an oversized t-shirt before heading downstairs.

The house is quiet, which means Tindra is still asleep.

That girl could sleep through a hurricane if you let her.

As I round the corner into the kitchen, I nearly jump out of my skin when I see a figure standing at the counter.

"Jesus Christ!" I yelp, my hand flying to my chest.

Tindra turns, an amused smirk playing on her lips. "Morning, Mom. Jumpy much?"

I let out a shaky laugh, trying to calm my racing heart. "You scared the hell out of me, kid. What are you doing up so early?"

She shrugs, turning back to whatever she's working on at the counter. "Couldn't sleep. Thought I'd make us some breakfast."

As I move closer, I see she's chopping fruit for a smoothie bowl.

My chest tightens with a mixture of pride and sadness.

When did my little girl get so grown up?

"You didn't have to do that," I say, reaching out to tuck a strand of her dark hair behind her ear.

Tindra leans into my touch for just a moment before pulling away. "I wanted to. Besides, someone has to make sure you eat more than just coffee for breakfast."

I snort, moving to the coffee maker to brew a fresh pot. "Hey now, coffee is a perfectly acceptable breakfast."

"Maybe in your world," Tindra quips, dumping the chopped fruit into two bowls. "But some of us prefer actual nutrients."

As the rich aroma of coffee fills the kitchen, I lean against the counter and watch my daughter work.

She moves with a quiet grace, her pale skin a stark contrast to her nearly black hair.

"So," I say casually, "any big plans for your day off?"

Tindra shrugs, not looking up from the granola she's sprinkling over the fruit. "Not really. Thought I might explore the property a bit. Maybe set up my easel by that little creek we found yesterday."

I nod, a small smile tugging at my lips. "That sounds nice. Just...stay close to the house, okay? And keep your phone on you."

This time, Tindra does look up, her brow furrowing slightly. "Mom, we're in the middle of nowhere. What exactly do you think is going to happen?"

I force a laugh, trying to keep my tone light. "Nothing, probably. I just worry you know that."

"Yeah, I know," she says softly, her expression softening. "But we're safe here, right? That's why we came to Tallahassee in the first place."

The weight of everything I haven't told her settles heavily on my chest.

She doesn't know about her grandfather, about the danger that lives here.

She doesn't know about the club, about her father.

About the past, I've tried so hard to outrun.

"Right," I manage, plastering on a smile that doesn't quite reach my eyes. "We're safe here."

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