Chapter One

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The fresh breeze whips my hair across my face as spring is almost at an end. The stars have disappeared but the moon is high in the sky as the store owners mumble their morning greetings and open up shop.

This has been my usual route to work for the past few months. Living in a small town can be disheartening when everyone knows everyone. Nothing happens around here without the whole street finding out by the end of the day.

Mr. Jameson, an older gentleman, is the only one that keeps to himself, he is my favorite person on the route. He nods his greeting and gives everyone that passes by a polite smile. There is no need to make any small talk with him, he never answers anything anyways.

His tired eyes glance over at me as I make my way towards past his store. There is a small gleam in his eyes as they meet mine, his smile grows bigger.

The thin cardigan clings to my small body as walk pass Mr. Jameson, "Mornin," I mutter and he nods his head as walks inside. 

Havenport is like living in close proximity to everyone you grew up with, that is if you were lucky enough to be born here, I wasn't.

The big windows gleam with the streetlights as I peek inside. There is a dim light in the back room where I presume that Wanda is in. She must be trying to get some work done before it is her time. 

I unlock the door and step inside the loud click go the lock must have alerted her of my presence. Wanda, my manager, walks out of the back and pulls the bandana her fro into a ponytail as she prepares for the morning rush. Wanda's grey eyes are heavy with the lack of sleep that she has been experiencing.

"Hello Abigail," she stifles a yawn with the back of her hand as I walk behind the counter and place my belongings in my section.

"Morning Wanda," I chime to her. The cardigan I was wearing is then replaced with a green apron.

"Is it too early in the morning to have a third cup of coffee?" She folds her arms across her chest and leans against the counter. There is a hint of a playful smile in the corner of her lips but suddenly disappears with a frown.  

"It is barely going to be five in the morning. I guess the answer is yes," she groans and walks back to the back, "and it is too early for a smoke," I yell at her as the door swings close behind her.

"I am quitting!" The sarcastic tone does not go unnoticed. That must be the nth time she has been trying to quit this year. 

Take one look at Wanda and someone would think that she is working here to pay off her school loans and exhausted from studying every night. No one knows that she was a teen mom that is working her butt off to keep a roof over their heads and food in their stomachs.

Wanda is a hard worker and refuses to accept money from her deadbeat ex-boyfriend. The second that he heard that she was expecting a baby he ran for the hills. She was expecting twins at the beginning and lost one. She might have never met him or her but their death weighed heavy on her heart, still does. She would have kept it all to herself but had the misfortune to be crying in the supply closet when I walked in, accidentally. 

There is something disarming about a person when they are found with cheeks raw, bloodshot eyes, and uncontrollable sobs ripping through their chest that forces one to stop in their tracks. I stood there unsure for a moment. Wanda tried to control herself but that only made her lose it even more. After a few moments she was able to tell me her story. It felt forced since the first thing that came into my mind was that she was hurt, physically, little did I know.

We never agreed to it but it was a silent oath, we would not speak of this to anyone. 

Wanda returns from the back as she rolls down the sleeve of her button up shirt, another nicotine patch plastered on her arm.

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