In the picturesque town of Leavenworth, Washington, 27-year-old Sofie Bennett leads a life marked by its comforting predictability. As a sweet-natured waitress at The Alpine Tavern-a cozy haven where locals come together for hearty meals and lively...
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The days after Millie's funeral blurred together in a haze of grief and exhaustion. I spent most of my time at Grandma's house, packing up her things and preparing it for sale. The memories were overwhelming—each item I touched seemed to hold a piece of her, reminding me of the life we'd shared in this cozy home. But today was different. Today, I was leaving this house for good, and with it, leaving behind the last tangible connection I had to Millie. It was like closing a chapter of my life that I wasn't ready to let go of. But I knew I had to. Staying here, surrounded by her things, would only keep me trapped in the past.
Salice and Ayana had arrived early, their presence a comforting distraction from the emptiness that had settled in my heart. Salice, with her fiery red hair and infectious energy, had immediately taken charge, organizing the move with a precision that only she could muster. Ayana, ever the calming influence, had quietly started packing up the kitchen, offering me a reassuring smile whenever our eyes met.
I, on the other hand, had been moving in a daze. I wasn't sure what to say, or how to express the swirling emotions inside me. My heart was still heavy with grief, and the thought of leaving this house—our house—felt like losing Millie all over again.
"You don't have to do anything today, Sofie," Ayana said gently, her voice pulling me from my thoughts. "We've got this. Just sit and relax, okay?"
I nodded, but the idea of sitting still made me feel restless. "I need to help," I said, my voice quieter than I intended. "I can't just sit here."
Salice appeared beside me, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Then help us by letting us do the heavy lifting. We know this is hard, and you've been through enough."
I gave her a small, appreciative smile. I knew they were right—I wasn't in the right headspace to deal with the logistics of moving. But doing nothing made the loss feel even more real.
Hours passed, and the house gradually emptied. Boxes were piled by the door, filled with clothes, books, and other belongings that I hadn't been able to let go of just yet. Salice and Ayana worked tirelessly, packing and organizing, their chatter filling the otherwise silent house. I tried to join in, but my heart wasn't in it. I was grateful they were here—without them, I wasn't sure how I would have managed.
