Mia sat on the porch steps the next afternoon, sketchbook closed beside her. The lake was calm, but her mind wasn’t. Aunt Lisa came out with two glasses of lemonade and sat next to her without asking.
“You’ve been quiet today,” Lisa said, handing her a glass. “Not the usual ‘I’m enjoying the peace’ quiet. Something else.”
Mia took a sip. “I don’t know. Everything feels… in between. Ethan’s trying back home. He talked to my dad. Worked out with Jake. But our calls are getting shorter. And I’m out here laughing with new people, drawing again, actually sleeping well. It feels good. But it also feels like I’m doing something wrong.”
Lisa nodded slowly, looking out at the water. “You want my real story?”
Mia turned toward her. “Yeah. I do.”
Lisa leaned back. “I was twenty-one. Head over he
