September 1, 2026.
Moving day.
The loft was ours.
Brick walls, high ceilings, huge windows letting in city light.
Damien hired movers—professional, fast.
I packed the personal stuff.
Books.
Art supplies.
Clothes.
The star necklace never left my neck.
Mia came to help.
Showed up early with coffee and donuts.
Hugged me tight.
“You excited?”
“Yeah.” I smiled. Real. “Nervous too.”
She nodded.
“Big step.”
We unpacked boxes in the living room.
Damien directed furniture.
Mia and I hung pictures.
Laughed over where to put the weird abstract print I’d bought on a whim.
By evening, it looked like home.
Couch in place.
Bed assembled.
Kitchen stocked.
We ordered pizza.
Sat on the floor—picnic style.
Mia raised her plastic cup of soda.
“To your new place.”
We clinked.
She
