I pick up the basket carefully, as if it might break under my grip, and bring it inside, kicking the door shut behind me. Fiona looks around, her little head swiveling like she’s taking in every detail of the shabby living room that’s definitely not baby-friendly. I set the basket on the couch and run a hand through my hair, staring at her like she might suddenly start giving me answers.

“What the hell am I supposed to do now?” I mutter, more to myself than to Fiona. But Fiona just yawns, like she couldn’t care less about my existential crisis.

I glance at the letter again, rereading Casey’s words, looking for some kind of clue, some instruction manual for how to handle this. But there’s nothing. Just the vague, unhelpful assurance that I’ll “do right by her.”

“Yeah, sure, Casey,” I grumble, tossing the letter onto the coffee table. “Just drop her off and disappear. Real responsible.”

Fiona lets out a tiny noise somewhere between a coo and a cry, and I freeze. Is she hungry? Tired? Sick? I have no idea. I’m not cut out for this—never wanted to be, never planned to be. And yet, here I am, staring down at this little person who, somehow, is now my responsibility.

I wish my mom were here. She’d know what to do, know how to make sense of this whole mess. But I haven’t heard from her in years. After she left Green Lake, she just… disappeared. Guess she figured I didn’t need her anymore. But damn, could I use her now.

“All right, Fiona,” I begin, trying to keep my voice steady even though my hands are shaking. “I guess it’s you and me, huh?”

She blinks at me, his tiny fingers curling around the edge of the blanket, and it hits me all over again—this isn’t just some random baby. This is my kid. My daughter. And she’s counting on me to figure this out, to be the parent I never planned on being.

I take a deep breath, the weight of the moment pressing down on me like a heavy stone. I can feel my old life—the easygoing, carefree existence I’ve clung to for years—slipping away, replaced by something I don’t know how to handle.

I’m not ready for this. I don’t even know where to start. But as I look down at Fiona, her tiny face so full of innocent trust, I know I don’t have a choice.

Chapter 3 - Sonya

The coffee shop is buzzing with the kind of energy that only desperation can fuel. I’m at a corner table, hunched over my laptop with job listings blurring in front of me. My eyes ache from staring at the screen, but I keep scrolling, hoping for some miracle that isn’t buried under minimum wage and dead-end hours. It’s not like Green Lake is overflowing with opportunities, especially not for someone like me who’s apparently “difficult” to work with.

I’m trying to keep my frustration in check, but it’s hard when it feels like the whole town is conspiring to keep me stuck. Betsy’s gossip travels fast, and everyone seems to know that I got fired for standing up to Jack’s jerk of a friend, Tanner. Now, no one wants to hire the girl who made a scene. Perfect.

The bell over the door chimes, and I glance up to see Jane and Reiner walking in, hand in hand like the perfect picture of mated bliss. Jane spots me immediately and waves.

For a second, I consider ducking out before they reach my table, but there’s no escaping them now.

“Sonya!” Jane calls out, making a beeline for my corner. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“Didn’t realize I was hiding,” I say, trying for a light tone as I shut my laptop. “What’s up?”

Jane pulls out the chair across from me and sits down with a soft thud. “Just wanted to see how you’re doing. We know you’re having a hard time.”

“Not having a hard time,” I correct, but my voice wavers. “Just… figuring things out.”

Reiner stands behind Jane with his arms crossed over his chest, and I can feel the weight of his gaze. He’s got that look on his face—the one that says he’s about to offer advice, whether I want it or not.

“You know, you could always take some time to relax,” he suggests. “No need to rush into something new.”

“Relax?” I let out a short, bitter laugh. “I’ve got bills piling up. I can’t afford to relax.”

Jane’s eyes soften, and she reaches across the table to squeeze my hand. “We’ve got a spare room. You know you’re welcome to stay with us until you get back on your feet.”

I pull my hand back gently, offering her a small smile to soften the rejection. “Thanks, but I’m not looking for a handout. I’ve got a plan, I just need… time.”

Jane frowns and knits her brows together like she’s trying to solve a puzzle. “Sonya, we’re family. You don’t have to do this alone.”

“Yeah, but I’m also an adult,” I remind her, though my voice lacks the conviction I’m aiming for. “I need to stand on my own two feet. Besides, I’m not going to crash your newly mated bliss with my drama. You’ve got enough to worry about without adding me to the mix.”

Reiner clears his throat, pulling up a chair next to Jane and leaning in. “It’s not drama, Sonya. It’s life. And you’re part of our lives. We want to help.”

I can feel my patience thinning, like a rubber band stretched to its limit. “I appreciate it, really, but I’m not moving in with you. I’ve already got enough people thinking I can’t handle myself. I don’t need to add more fuel to that fire.”

Jane opens her mouth to argue, but Reiner gives her a gentle nudge. “She’ll figure it out, Janey. Just give her some space.”

Jane sighs, nodding reluctantly as she leans back in her chair. “Okay, but if you need anything, you know where we are.”