Page 68 of Manic

"So," I say as we pull into the parking lot, "any specific stores you want to hit?"

Tindra doesn't hesitate. "American Eagle and Charlotte Russe, for sure."

I smile, remembering my own teenage obsession with those stores. "You got it, kiddo."

As we walk through the mall's bustling corridors, I can't shake the feeling of surreality.

Here I am, shopping with my daughter like any normal mom, when just a few months ago...

"Mom?" Tindra's voice pulls me from my thoughts. "You okay?"

I force a smile. "Of course, sweetie. Just thinking about how nice this is."

We dive into American Eagle first, and I watch as Tindra goes from rack to rack, her face lighting up at each discovery.

As she disappears into a changing room, I find myself fingering a soft, oversized sweater.

"You should try it on," Tindra says, emerging in a pair of ripped jeans and a crop top that makes my heart skip a beat.

When did she get so grown up?

"Maybe," I say, then gesture to her outfit. "That looks great on you."

She beams, twirling a little. "Really? You don't think it's too... much?"

I pause, considering my words carefully. "I think it's perfect for a confident young woman. Just... maybe save the crop tops for when your dad's not around, yeah?"

Tindra giggles, and the sound warms my heart.

As we continue our shopping spree, moving on to Charlotte Russe, I find myself relaxing more than I have in weeks.

"Hey, Tindra," I say as we're browsing through a rack of dresses, "how are you liking it here? In Tallahassee, I mean."

She looks up, her green eyes thoughtful. "I like it a lot, actually. It's... different."

"Different how?"

Tindra shrugs, running her fingers over a sequined top. "I don't know. It's like... we have this giant sort of family here, you know? Back in Atlanta, we had people, but it wasn't like this. Does that make sense?"

I nod, a lump forming in my throat. "Yeah, baby. It makes perfect sense."

"Is that okay?" she asks, suddenly looking uncertain. "That I feel that way?"

I pull her into a hug, ignoring the curious glances from other shoppers. "Of course it's okay. I'm so glad you feel that way."

As I hold my daughter close, I can't help but think about the family we've found here—Tor, the club, even Dasha and the girls at Beans & Babes.

It's unconventional, sure, and not without its dangers.

But for the first time in a long time, it feels like home.

I run my fingers through Tindra's silky hair, savoring this afternoon of peace. "I think I've bought you out, kiddo," I say with a chuckle, gesturing to the mountain of shopping bags at our feet.

Tindra's eyes light up, and she grins. "Thanks, Mom. This was awesome."

We gather our haul and head toward the exit.

The parking lot shimmers under the afternoon sun, and I fish my keys out of my purse.

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