Page 84 of Hidden Echoes

I look at her. Then at the bags. Then back at her.

"Mia… you’ve already picked up fifty things."

"That doesn't answer my question," she counters.

I drag a hand down my face, barely stifling a laugh. "Extra butter."

She grins, satisfied, and drops the bag into the cart. "Good choice, husband."

I freeze at the casual way she says husband, but she’s already distracted, scanning the shelves again.

Then, suddenly, she stops, eyes widening. "Wait. What if we want something sweet and salty at the same time?"

I stare at her. "Mia."

She looks between the bags, clearly weighing some complex internal debate.

"I need both."

Before I can protest, she tosses the caramel popcorn in, too.

I shake my head, accepting my fate.

"Are we done now?" I ask as she sneaks in another bag of candy.

"Now we’re done!" Mia claps her hands in triumph.

"Great. Let’s go before you buy the entire store."

We make our way to the checkout, and only when we start unloading our absurd collection onto the conveyor belt does Mia seem to realize the sheer volume of food she’s hoarded.

She glances at me sheepishly. "Okay, maybe I overdid it a little."

I give her a blank stare.

She bites her lip to keep from laughing. "But hey, at least we’re stocked up for emergencies, right?"

"You mean, in case of a zombie apocalypse where we survive solely on waffles and gummy bears?"

"Exactly!" She grins.

The sun is low as we finish loading the groceries into the car. Mia pulls out her phone, glancing down at the screen. I see Audrey's name, and I can already picture her typing with that over-the-top energy of hers. Mia taps out a reply, clearly amused by whatever Audrey’s just sent.

Mia laughs, shaking her head. "Well, Audrey says she can kick your ass if I need her to. You’re definitely on her radar now."

I roll my eyes. "Yeah, I’m shaking in my boots."

At least it’s not Seth Evans.

Mia’s phone buzzes, and I catch a glimpse of her smile as she reads the messages.

Her face softens, like she’s surprised but happy about whatever’s on the screen. I can hear the hint of warmth in her voice as she reads out loud, half to herself.

“Liv says: ‘I hope everything is okay. I got your number from Andi. Don’t disappear, okay? We want to see you again.’ And then Andi’s asking if everything’s okay with me.”

I stop unpacking the groceries and glance over at her. There’s a genuine softness in her expression, like the words are sinking in deeper than she’s used to.

She puts the phone down on the counter and meets my eyes, her smile still there, but more thoughtful now.

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