Alyssa
After finally putting the twins down for a nap, I collapse into the living room with Ashley and Chelsea. Meanwhile, Zuri and Ben are tearing through the place like sugar-high puppies, their squeals ricocheting off the walls.
Coffee in one hand, chocolate-sprinkle donut in the other, I watch the chaos like a referee who already knows she's losing the game. My gaze stays half-trained on the kids—because if there's anything I've learned, toddlers can turn anything into a death trap the second you blink.
After the morning I've had, caffeine and sugar matter more than sleep. If I close my eyes now, I'll probably be out cold until next Tuesday.
"So, what's going on with you?" I ask Ashley, keeping my tone casual as I bite into the donut.
"Nothing," she lies, badly.
Chelsea cuts me a
