Jennifer’s POV
The walk back from Northern Ridge had been long, but I didn’t mind. For the first time in weeks—maybe longer—I had something to cling to. A job. A chance. Something of my own.
When I reached the cottage, the air inside smelled faintly of the soap I’d used the night before. I set my bag on the small table, stretched my sore legs, and let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.
This was my place now.
The thought sat strange in my chest, both comforting and terrifying.
I curled up on the couch, telling myself I’d only close my eyes for a moment. But the exhaustion of cleaning, of walking, of hope heavy in my bones pulled me under.
Sleep came quickly.
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When I woke, the cottage was dark. Too dark. The kind of darkness that pressed against the skin, that made shad
