Gracie Abrams is eking out a solitary existence, fighting day-in, day-out against the drain of working customer service and nursing two newborn kittens in her off time. Out on her own ever since her sister moved in with her boyfriend, the burden of...
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The swing set's chain was stiff with frost. My soft leather gloves—freshly dug out of a bin of winter supplies buried at the back of my closet—were in need of a revitalizing wash.
Through my sweats, the layer of frozen wetness had melted, soaking through my underwear. I didn't care.
Sometimes, you were powerless, in every sense of the word. Helpless. Not like Hamilton, not the kind where you gave in to something greater than you, something sweet and intangible like love. It wasn't like that.
To bow your head to a greater power because you had no choice was, uh, different.
I scrolled through text messages. Coworkers who hadn't heard from me in three days. My Team Leader Amanda's latest message:
Hope you feel better <3. Just a reminder that you have to come back with a doctor's note since it's been more than three days. Let me know if there's anything I can do. We're all thinking of you.
How funny. It was like reading sympathy cards for my own funeral. What doctor's note? No doctor would sign off on a deflated heart.
I'd never missed work before Kakashi had come into my life. From then, I'd gone out at night after working long days, and I'd used my days off to go on even longer missions. Like last Sunday.
Mission. Right. Who was I kidding?
Frost crunched beneath a moccasin-clad foot. No socks, just bare ankles, slightly blue from the cold.
"I got my safety deposit box," Talia said. "I was surprised you weren't in the car. Did I take too long?"
I shook my head, strands getting stuck between my lips. I clawed them out, the motion something monumental as if the air was jello, and my lips glue. It suddenly seemed dumb to push it out when it was just gonna be stuck right back where it was. Mid-swipe, my hand eventually descended, landing on my knee with the poise of a model aircraft.
Silence spread between us as Talia shuffled in the thinnest jacket I had to offer. This person did not like thick clothes; that, I'd learned. I had an extra winter coat stashed away, and though it was a garish purple color, it would do in a pinch. But they'd preferred to grab one of my spring/fall Columbias. Not even the fleece one. Cotton. Thin cotton.
"You're freezing," I said, making no attempt to stand.
Talia's safety deposit box was not in an ordinary bank. To keep herself under the radar of her illustrious coven leaders, she had been forced to find alternative strategies. Namely, Talia had been forced to rely on human kindness. Never a good strategy.
But it worked.
The pawn shop broker worked with a lot of homeless youths. I'd only been sitting at the tiny playground across the ramshackle side street for about thirty minutes, and I'd seen both a Food Senders truck and Auto Home van park along the street, entering the barred doors of EaZe Pawn and carrying out goods from deep within. Both companies are known for working with the homeless and displaced local communities. No other proof was needed, really.
