Page 28 of Breaking
"Jenna, Jesus." His voice was a mixture of anger and relief. "Why didn't you answer? I thought- I didn't know what to think."
"I've been handling things," she said simply. "I had to take care of the kids."
He exhaled sharply. "God, Jenna. I'm so sorry. I-do you need me to come there?"
She closed her eyes, surprised by the offer. "No. I just... I needed to figure some things out. I'll be back in Brighton soon."
"You shouldn't have to do this alone," Troy said, quieter now.
She hesitated. "No, I shouldn't have. I have to go. I need to call Lilly and let her know. "
A beat of silence. They talked for five more minutes before Jenna had to go.
"Thank you for calling," Jenna murmured before hanging up.
Calling Lilly was easier, but still painful. Her daughter was stunned into silence before murmuring, "You just-take care of yourself, Mum. Do you need me to come and get you?"
Muttering a negative, Jenna hung up and took a deep breath.
That evening, as Dani and Dylan slept in their rooms upstairs, Jenna sat in the dimly lit living room, surrounded by paperwork and Sasha's things still scattered about. The house didn't feel like hers-nothing about it felt settled. She had no studio here, no space to retreat to, just a cluttered dining table and the weight of uncertainty pressing down on her.
She rubbed her bleary eyes, her lashes still crusted from earlier tears, and stared at a blank page in the notebook in front of her. The grief swirled inside her, but instead of pushing it away, she let it flow. Slowly, she began to sketch, her hands moving almost of their own accord. The lines formed a picture of Sasha from memory, laughing as she had in their youth, her eyes bright with mischief.
The memory brought a bittersweet smile to Jenna's face. Sasha had been more than a friend-she had been a sister, a lifeline, a constant in a world that had often felt unpredictable and cruel. Losing her waslike losing a part of herself, but Jenna knew she had to carry on. For Sasha. For Dani and Dylan.
Chapter 26
Troy
"Jenna?"
As Jenna was making her way to Chester, Troy returned home later than usual, his tie loosened, his mind finally ready to talk to Jenna. He headed straight for the kitchen, expecting to find her there, maybe making tea or sorting through paperwork. Instead, he found the sink filled with unwashed dishes, the countertops cluttered with used mugs and an empty cereal bowl. It was unlike Jenna to leave things in disarray.
Frowning, he turned and made his way to her studio. It was one of the places she often retreated to when she needed space, but when he pushed the door open, the room was dark, eerily still. Only unfinished paintings, the scent of paint on paper lingering.
His pulse kicked up a notch.
"Jenna?" he called, his voice tight.
When no answer came, he picked up his pace, moving through the house faster now. "Jenna!" His voice echoed as he strode into the living room, then the hallway, his breath coming quicker.
He looked in the master bedroom. But as soon as he stepped inside, something felt... off. The house was silent. Too silent.
He moved from room to room, confusion morphing into a slowly escalating panic. His chest felt tight and he had to sit down. Jenna's usual order was gone-papers were scattered, a half-full cup of tea saton the counter, and her shoes weren't by the door. The house felt abandoned.
His heart pounded. Had she left him?
His phone buzzed in his pocket. He held it up only to see it flashing 'Mom'. He ignored it as he walked into the bedroom. Her closet was still full, but something about the room felt hollow, empty in a way he couldn't explain.
The sound of the front door opening made him spin around. Lilly walked in, her brows furrowing at his dishevelled appearance.
"Dad? What's wrong?"
Troy exhaled sharply. "Have you heard from your mother?"
Lilly frowned. "She left me a message... It didn't make much sense. She said she needed to go to Sasha's. Why? What's going on?"
Troy ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know where Sasha even lives. She's not answering my calls, and I-" He stopped, swallowing hard. "I don't know what to do."
