Her room was in disarray. The usual organized chaos had been torn through, a result of Hurricane Darcy.
There was nothing left but heaps of things— items and emotions. Nothing worth having pride in. Everything deserving of shame.
But it was her place. Her one safe space.
One step outside of it, and she'd be faced with her latest heartbreak, living just a room over.
Not even work could get her out of bed today. Between her oscillating emotions and the growing pressure of her new role at work, she just wanted to shut the world off for a while.
She was stressed and breaking out, becoming swallowed whole by her brokenness. When she wasn't working, she was sleeping.
She tried to write. She changed her hair— box braids stretching for her tailbone. She tried to keep busy, but the heartbreak had become too much.
It was strange.
She'd spent hours, days, months preparing herself for what she thought would be an inevitable fate with Sage. Never in a million years did she think her relationship with Aria would be the one to falter.
She couldn't believe it.
After years of being so close, they'd never felt so far apart. Darcy wondered where it all went so wrong.
They'd been friends since they were barely teenagers. Aria was Dani's friend first, and since then, they'd all been stuck together.
Dani's passing was supposed to pull them closer— solidify their bond— but it seemed to only highlight their differences, their shortcomings.
Darcy's shortcomings.
It pained Darcy to digest it all, especially considering the fact that of all people to choose over her, Aria chose Jay.
The very man that had played with Dani's mind and beaten her heart beyond repair. The very man that had to be held at knifepoint so he wouldn't harm Darcy.
Aria had chosen his side. All because he'd attended a few more outings than she had?
It wasn't fair. The feeling of betrayal fizzled in her gut and only burned deeper at the thought of Eric also not coming to her defense.
They'd all been in cahoots. They all disparaged her and were waiting for the moment to let her in on the fact. And they took the very first opportunity to.
The thought sickened Darcy. Every day, it made her more and more nauseous. It triggered her gut enough times to make her question her health.
She even utilized the spare pregnancy test kept from a scare last year— just to get to the bottom of such a feeling.
It wouldn't be the first time that stress and emotional pain made her distraught enough to send her insides flying out.
This level of brokenheartedness and embarrassment reminded her of childhood. When her father was taken away to prison. When she felt her mother's love fading.
Soon enough the pain got easier to endure. No longer had she dealt with the gross outcome of her overgrown emotions.
Until now.
How could they embarrass her like that? How could they sit there as if she was the villain, chastising and speaking up only when she had something to say?
But when Jay called her classless and childish, it was Sage that told him to stop. Not the people she'd known for at least a decade.
It put a lot into perspective, and it also said a lot about Sage's character.
Maybe I should call him over, she thought.
With bile scented breath and fatigue that weighed heavier than usual, she didn't feel up to it in the slightest.
And as she peeked out from under the rubble of blankets and bedsheets, her eyes slinking along her disaster of a room, she scoffed.
He can't see me like this, she decided.
But Sage had made his own decisions.
Given the abrupt nature of his termination, he was reeling.
He couldn't believe how easily he was kicked aside, how quickly his golden ticket out of Mason had been revoked.
It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair interpersonally.
It wasn't fair business!
But Dime seemed to be quite the politician, and apparently Kyro was the perfect lobbyist for him. Schmoozing and putting a bug in his ear that ultimately bit Sage in the back.
The DJ's loyalty had been laid already, and Dime abided by that. After all, the game was all about serving who serves you, right?
At least that's what Sage remembered of his 4th of July conversation with Dime.
Sage hated how much he'd compromised on his mission to "make it." In the end, it only kept him chained to this place.
In the end, it only put a crack in what had become a shattered friendship with Ken... and now he couldn't even make amends because Ken was gone.
And he wasn't too sure if he'd ever see him again.
That thought is what led him back to Darcy.
He rounded the Graham's parking lot and noticed her car wasn't there. Upon going inside and asking if she'd been in today, he soon learned that she called out for the week.
He weighed the option of going to her home.
He knew that he was the last person she wanted to see right now, and he definitely would face her wrath once she saw him. But he didn't want anyone else but her.
He followed his heart's path and landed on her doorstep.
Locks thudded and clanked before the door creaked open to unveil Aria.
"Oh, hi, Sage," she gave a small, polite smile while clipping a name tag onto her shirt.
"Hey, uh... Is Darcy here?"
"Yeah, I think. It's been pretty quiet around here, and I haven't seen her in a few days, so I'm almost not sure," she chortled to cut the sharpness of such a sad revelation. "But, um, you can knock and see."
The door widened.
Sage stepped inside.
"I'm actually on my way to work, so I'll probably catch you on the flip side," she stated while fiddling with a bundle of keys. "If she's not here, just lock up, okay?"
She tossed him the house key.
Never having been all that athletic, he surprised himself when he caught the tiny object.
"See ya!" She was halfway out the door before he could respond.
He kept the key tight in his grasp as he knocked on Darcy's closed bedroom door.
Silence.
He checked his phone for the time. It was nearly 1:00 in the afternoon. The lack of light seen under the door led him to believe that if she was here, she was definitely asleep.
He knocked again.
Bedsprings squeaked. Footsteps pattered.
The door opened, and Sage had barely gotten a glimpse of her before she shrieked and forced the door closed.
"What are you doing here?" she shouted from her side of the door.
"Darcy-Ann—"
"I don't want to see you, Sage. How'd you even get in here?"
"Aria—"
She groaned, her name alone being enough of an answer. "Just leave, Sage. I'm not ready to see you."
"I hear you, Darcy-Ann but—"
"Get out!"
Sage huffed, frustration beginning to simmer beneath his pre-existing disappointment.
"Darcy-Ann, please. I need you."
Just saying those words felt like he'd pulled a sword out of himself, no longer letting her weapons against him pin him to the wall she'd built.
"I need you... I... I need a friend... please."
Silence.
He hesitated, "We're still friends, right?"
She sighed deeply, giving in to his sad tone.
The door opened slowly, and she appeared in the opening. Her hand was still on the knob, anxiety pouring into her as she unveiled as little of her room as possible.
The most he could see of her was her face, poking out from behind the white painted wood.
"Can I come in?"
She shook her head with immediacy.
"Can you come out?" His eyebrows rose.
The shirt she sported was old and wreaked of sadness. She couldn't possibly step any closer and give any inkling of just how terribly she'd been doing in her solitude.
When her emotions hadn't sent her careening toward the bathroom, she was sewn to her mattress. Her bed was her safe haven, and she was taking full advantage of her days off from work.
It gave her time to mope around and recover from the exhaustion of pretending that she had it all together.
But now that an outsider wanted to infiltrate, she felt an immense amount of shame— in herself, in her environment, and in her headspace.
"Um," her mouth was dry and her breath was rank. She was almost scared to talk for fear of him catching just the slightest clue of who she was when she was alone.
"You alright? You look sick," his curious face was stamped with concern.
"Yeah, I been sick," she nodded, taking such a comment and beginning to own it. It was the perfect excuse that alleviated some of her shame.
"It's okay. You got soup or—"
"Nah, I ain't been able to keep nothin' down. I— anyway, what do you— are you okay?" She folded her arms and redirected the conversation.
"Can we sit down?" His eyes were doing all the begging for him.
"Sage—"
"What? What is it? You bein' weird. You not gon' get me sick. We can sit in the living room, if you ain't gon' let me in. It doesn't matter. I just—"
He took a breath and released a resigned sigh. "It's a lot goin' on, and it's been killing me not talkin' to you, and I ain't got nobody else to turn to."
"What about Brandi?" Darcy's eyes fell as she mumbled, "Or that Jelly girl?"
"Jam?" His face scrunched. "Darcy, I need you. I don't want to go talk to Jam. I don't want nobody but you. Why you think I'm here?"
"Honestly, Sage, now really isn't the best time."
"Why not? Give me a legitimate reason," he softly demanded.
He waited patiently for an answer, watching her gape like a fish before she finally found a way to link her thoughts to her words.
"I don't want you to see me like this," she could barely put a voice behind the confession.
"Like what?" He scanned what he could see of her, his eyebrows bunched.
She worked up the nerve to push her door open, but once she did, her messy room was exposed as if a curtain had been drawn back.
It was so dark in her room that the light of the living room chased the opening door like a spotlight.
He scanned the disarray, each moment spent in silence only made Darcy sweat more and more in anticipation.
She wanted him to speak, to end her suffering. She could barely look at him anymore, his unreadable expression driving her further up the wall of her mind.
"Just say it already. Go ahead and judge me," she impatiently ordered.
His eyes darted into hers as his face hardened into stoicism. And then finally, he spoke.
"You ain't got nothin' to be ashamed of."
He entered and brought light with him, flipping switches and opening blinds.
She watched him, stunned and still as she stood at the door.
He surveyed her room as he moved along, avoiding stepping on clothing and scattered items as if he were playing Floor Is Lava.
"It's not so bad, Darcy. Really," he assured her.
The relief of his words hadn't hit yet. She was still processing the fact that he was even here.
"I can run you a bath, and you can enjoy that while I get started cleaning up for you."
"No, I should help—"
"You can help once you're out."
"What about you though? You said you needed to talk."
"We can talk while you help."
She could live with that. So she went into the bathroom first, flipping on the light while he trailed from across her bedroom.
Immediately spotting earlier's pregnancy test, she quickly wrapped it in a paper towel and ushered it into the trash before he got to the bathroom doorway.
He made a beeline straight to the tub as she played off her quick movements by reaching for a bottle of bubbles.
He accepted the bottle and drew the bath as she awkwardly stood, back against the sink.
It was a while before either spoke.
"I'm sorry," she blurted as water rushed and leveled midway to the tub's rim.
"Sorry for what?" He poured in a little more lavender and stirred his fingertips in to check the tub's temperature.
"For making you take care of me. I had a handle on everything. I just—"
"I'm not doing anything I don't wanna do," he affirmed.
"Yeah, but—"
"You'd do the same for me," he shrugged.
"I'm not sure if I would," she mumbled, head hanging.
"That's why you been avoiding me?" He asked, back still facing her as he cut off the running tub faucet.
She allowed him time to specify what he meant.
"You been feelin' like a bad friend since Aria said what she said?" He slowly stood up.
"Yeah," she muttered.
"Why you feel bad about it?"
"Because... it's true."
"You really believe that?" He faced her.
She almost answered, but the feeling of re-emerging tears held her tongue.
She refrained and redirected, "I thought you came to talk about you."
"We can talk about me later."
She turned away, preferring the heat of his gaze on her back rather than her face.
She hadn't accounted for the sight of him in the mirror.
He finally looked away, eyes falling to the counter rather than her face. "Look, uh... we ain't gotta talk at all, if you don't want to."
He sidestepped toward the door. "I'll leave you to, uh, yeah."
He closed the door behind himself.
Darcy sighed deeply.
She brushed her teeth and swished mouthwash before finally disrobing. She settled into her tub and took time to sulk and bathe. It lasted long enough to prune her skin and chill the water.
She'd nearly forgotten that Sage was here as she wrapped a towel around herself.
It was the sound of a vacuum that reminded her.
She emerged from the bathroom, finding that he was just about done with everything. Her room had been tidied, trash bagged and tied, clothing put in their rightful place.
The only sign of disorder was on her bed. Her sheets had been stripped.
The vacuum powered down, leaving only the sound of a clank against her opposite wall. That meant her sheets were in the washing machine, positioned right next to her room.
"I was gonna help," her voice nearly startled him as he wrapped the vacuum's cord.
"Sorry. Guess I'm too efficient."
He was a janitor after all. Darcy's room was light work.
"We can eat some popcorn and leave some crumbs, if it meant that much to help clean up," he smiled slightly.
She softened with a smile that almost mirrored his.
"Thanks," she said.
"No prob," he shrugged while rolling the vacuum aside. "I'll take out the trash and be right back."
And that's what he did. He grabbed a hold on the full grocery bag she'd been using in her room's trash can before stepping into the bathroom for the bag there.
As he crouched down to grab the bag from its small bin, his eyes fell on to a piece of white and blue plastic with a bold plus sign etched onto it.
He blinked again and again, hoping his sight had fooled him. It hadn't.
He uprooted the bag from the bin and tied it up alongside the other bag and made his way out of her room.
As he left, Darcy got dressed and took a look around. She'd almost forgotten how cool her room looked when it was all straightened up.
Sage took a few creative liberties, but she liked them.
Her books were no longer stacked in a pile but standing as they would in a library. Her favorite blanket was a drape for the love seat rather than the foot of her bed.
Then again, the bed was currently out of commission as her comforter was bunched on top of it, awaiting its turn in the wash.
Her cardigan— Dani's cardigan was folded neatly on top of her box of belongings, which was the only thing that hadn't been touched otherwise.
It called to her like it always did, and she started to feel like today would finally be the day she opened it.
She slipped on the sweater, hugging herself with its coziness and fighting to remember her sister's warmth, so uniquely hers.
Every day, the memory got further away.
Tears rose at the thought. Then came guilt as she mused, "She should be here."
She attempted to sum her emotions, gathering them at the sound of Sage's return.
The front door's opening and closure. The locks. His thudding footsteps went on and on— closer then farther then closer— until he finally appeared in her room's doorway.
She faced him, stifling a sniffle as she pulled the cardigan tighter around her.
"You good? You need anything else?" He asked with a soda can in hand.
"No, I'm... I'm good, thank you for all this."
"No prob," he shrugged while holding the can toward her. Ginger ale. Cold to the touch.
She accepted it while he dug into his pocket. "Aria gave me her key."
She didn't realize how much she wanted him to stay until he presented the key. It felt like his final act of courtesy before he'd leave.
"You alright?" She asked while taking the key.
He shrugged. "Better now that I've put my eyes on you."
"You stayin'?"
He hesitated, eyes barreling into hers as he attempted to read her mind. "I'on know... but I'll stay if that's what'chu want."
She couldn't bring herself to admit it, so she knocked her hand into his.
Somehow, it felt like the first time they touched all over again. Her hand in his, her emotions propped for his browsing, him finding her in all her darkness.
She led him into the living room, where they sat on the couch.
"What's been going on with you?" She inquired as they settled. She cracked open her ginger ale.
"I'm not going on tour anymore."
"Why not?"
"Politics."
She scoffed, "And what does that mean?"
"I got beef with the DJ."
"Beef? Since when? For what?"
"Since that night at Exodus," he sighed with the shake of his head. "I got to fightin' wit' the nigga."
"That's why you got kicked out?"
"And banned."
"What were y'all fightin' about?" She asked.
He kissed his teeth and looked away. "Doesn't matter. The shit was blown out of proportion."
"It had to have mattered if it got you mad enough to fight."
With a deep sigh, he finally answered. "He said somethin' disrespectful about Chico... Said he might've deserved to go out the way he did."
"I'm sorry he said that."
"He's sorry too. Shit, I made him sorry. Was whoopin' his ass so bad, he had to call security," he scoffed. "Now I'm the one fuckin' sorry."
"It's not your fault."
"It is... I knew who I was fuckin' wit' but I wasn't thinkin'. I didn't know it'd come back like this... but it makes sense because Dime—" he nearly laughed at the thought of him.
His rant resumed, "Dime told me how important connections are and being loyal and politickin' and all this other shit and just... I can't believe Ken was right about all this shit."
"Right about what?"
"About the nigga not being worth doin' business with... It's just fucked... It's all fucked because I thought that I was outta' here— finally fuckin' outta' here."
His neck craned back, nestled in cushioning as his head rested against the back of the couch.
Darcy spoke, "If you really wanna leave, just do it. You don't need nobody to get you out of here."
Sage's head tipped, his face turning toward her as his gaze spilled onto the side of her face. He swam in the whites of her avoidant eyes, clinging to her every word.
"Really?" He asked.
She snorted in a "duh" fashion.
It was followed with, "I think you're good enough to get out on your own merit, with your own wings... not hitching a ride on someone else's."
He'd missed Darcy's words of encouragement.
"Thank you," he smiled slightly.
She nodded with the sketches of a smile whisking over her lips. She took a sip of her drink.
He stared at her, committing her image to his mind. Wanting to copy this moment into a memory that he'd look back on fondly.
He had missed her so much. After what felt like months apart, he never wanted to experience a period as hard as this ever again. At least, not without her.
Life was bearable when she was in it. Mason was a Mecca as long as she was here.
His gaze traveled. Darcy felt it move, pointed pupils slicing down her side.
She couldn't tell where his mind was headed, but the very thought of him taking this genuine moment as an opportunity to initiate romance made her tense.
And the intensity of his stare made her self-conscious.
"God, please shut this nigga's eyes," she thought with eyes that found its last resort on the ceiling.
Sage's head turned as if he'd heard her prayer himself.
He looked at the ceiling too, as if he wanted to know what was so interesting that kept her attention there instead of with him.
He took a deep breath, inhaling this feeling.
He didn't care where her attention lay as long as she was with him. Nothing else mattered.
"It's a'ight... and it's gon' be okay," he affirmed.
That was for himself and for her.
"Yeah?" She took another sip of her drink.
"Yeah... We ain't got it figured out now, but we will."
He was talking about two things at once, but she hadn't processed such a possibility. She offered reassurance with a hand on his shoulder.
"Yeah," it was with a slight nod and a warm smile that she validated his claim.
He glanced at her hand.
"My hands are cold, and you're always so hot. You got this out the fridge?" She referenced the can she held with a hand that ran up and down his bicep.
He nodded. He couldn't find his words with her touch creating a hum that ping-ponged inside his head.
"Feels like it came out the freezer," she leaned forward to place the can on the coffee table.
Sage followed her lead, noticing a coaster closer to his side than hers. He slid it over, and she placed her beverage there.
They both leaned back, slouching into the couch cushions once more.
"So, what'chu gon' do? I know you got a lot to figure out, but you got anything in mind yet?" She asked.
He relaxed under her sights. He forgot how good it felt being seen by her, how safe he felt in her company. How himself he felt.
"Yeah, I got a couple things... Might have to plan for some bigger changes... but I got it," he guaranteed.
"Bigger changes like what?" Her curiosity pushed the conversation forward.
He thought of mentioning the test he saw in the bathroom but figured he'd hold off.
He decided to give her another week or so to tell him for herself. To weigh her options, to fight what he always felt was inevitable— their union, whether it remained mental and emotional or would manifest spiritually and physically— and then, finally, concede.
She needed time. But time wasn't on their side.
It surely didn't feel like it was on Sage's.
Any day now, he'd pack up his shit and get out of dodge. He'd have to. With Chico gone and Ken missing, he felt like the grim reaper was looming, leering, lusting for him.
The longer he stayed, the shorter his lifeline drew.
That's how he saw it.
But if Darcy was really pregnant, and if she was keeping it, maybe he'd have a reason to lengthen it. A reason to fight for his life here— something that wasn't just because of a passion.
But a purpose.
He thought about his first date with Darcy. God, it felt like ages ago.
He could go on like this forever with her. His heart soared at the thought. To be hers. No matter what it looked like.
"Don't just grin at me! Big changes like what?" She urged with a smile that spread on her face like water through a pot of soil.
He shrugged. "Goin' into business wit' my dad or somethin' like that."
"You don't really wanna do that, do you?" She was shocked by such an idea. She never thought she'd see the day he'd consider anything other than music.
He scoffed with a slight smile. "Ain't about what I wanna do. It's about what's best for right now... I gotta buckle down, get me some money."
"I guess that makes sense... You still gotta make time for your dreams though, right?"
"Yeah... but I could always dream up somethin' else."
"Like what?"
He grew coy, but with eyes that swept over the matching promise rings they wore, it was clear what he meant.
Darcy shifted in her seat, fighting not to make things awkward. She reached for her drink instead.
"You know I love you, Darcy-Ann."
She gulped, nearly choking on the carbonated drink.
"You know that, right?" He asked it as if he really didn't know the answer.
Still recovering from her ale, she opted for a nodding head rather than words.
"I don't wanna 'make this a thing'," he chuckled at her old phrase, "but I just thought I should check in... and make sure you know... and make sure that I know that you know... You know?"
She chortled. "Yeah."
She relaxed a bit, but as he continued talking, she became filled with a heap of anxiety.
"I've missed you... I've missed this," he said.
The worst parts of her mind only became noisier, like her body became a new hive for excited bees.
She knew she loved him, and she had missed him as well.
But as she faced the reality that she was the terrible person she always feared being, she couldn't possibly let Sage fall any harder into their love affair.
Not when she was who she was, and he was who he was.
She couldn't possibly break him like she'd broken so many others. She wouldn't be able to live with herself.
But as Sage continued unloading the weeks' worth of words, it got harder to break the news to him.
He couldn't stop, feeling like the weight of his emotions had tipped to a point of undoing.
"I'on know how hard or easy or whatever it's been without me, and I know you'on need me or any of the bullshit I come with, but I really do appreciate you being in my life, Darcy. Even just for these couple'a hours."
That was so terribly sweet. It scared her. It pained her. It paralyzed her, not even a blink breaking the stare into his eyes.
It was his turn to wait— and internally freak out and then wait some more— for a response from her.
And then it came. Twisting into him like a dagger he'd forgotten to take out with the others.
"Um... I think you should go," the words snuck from her lips as if they weren't supposed to be said.
But once they were said, there was no going back. She couldn't bear to look at him anymore.
He was silent for a while, waiting for her gaze to find him again. The longer she kept her attention hidden from him, the harder it got to return it to him.
She knew that the longer she waited, the more disappointment would live in his eyes. She couldn't face that reality, even if it was hypothetical.
"Yeah, you're probably right," he accepted.
She hadn't accounted for the disappointment that would anchor his voice. Somehow, it hurt just as much.
She stood, walking toward the door before he could see the tears pooling in her eyes.
He trailed calmly, rising from his seat with neither hurry nor reluctance.
She opened the door, taking Aria's key and placing it where the spare would usually be.
Sage brushed past her, a hand swishing along her sleeved arm. "Take care of yourself, Darcy. Call me if you need anything."
"Yeah, thanks... and thanks for helping me today."
It was with a sweet smile that he replied, "That's what friends are for."
She mirrored his smile although it made watching him leave all the more painful.
"God, how am I gonna get through this? Having him as a friend. Having him be anything to me. Having him just around," she ran circles in her own mind as she watched him get in his truck and drive.
"Fuck," she murmured, thinking of that pregnancy test she trashed. If she was pregnant, there'd be no getting rid of him.
Not to mention the fact that she wasn't ready for a kid. Wasn't even sure if she wanted any— especially when it seemed like she could never do right by the people she loved.
The best thing was to be alone.
She wondered if her own mother had come to that conclusion. Maybe that's why she hadn't heard from her in a while.
Darcy wished her mother came to that conclusion before having kids. Maybe she wouldn't be like this, maybe she wouldn't even exist.
"Ugh, life is overrated anyway," she sighed deeply while retreating inside.
It seems Dani thought the same thing.
Darcy decided that she'd finally sift through the last of her items to find out.
Stuffed animals, one from childhood and one from Jay. Darcy nearly gagged at the thought of him.
A box of pictures. Polaroids.
Darcy laughed softly at the blush pink box they'd been kept in.
Dani was a hipster in the most obnoxious sense of the word, back in the day. Darcy recalled how obsessed she was with the alternative music and pictures of Polaroid pictures— that's kinda' meta, when you think about it— she found on Tumblr. Begged Mama for a camera, and just like everything else, she got it.
And she wore that little thing out. Had to restock on film, every couple of months.
There were a lot of pictures from their teenage years. Some of her and Aria. Lots of group pictures with the three of them. A picture of her and Daddy— Wow, he looks so much younger in this one. He doesn't even have his scar here.
There were quite a few photos of them actually. She must've taken one with him every time she visited.
They were always cute, always posed in some way. Almost always silly. Dani's smile was infectious, gapped and bright— it matched Daddy's.
Darcy set the pictures aside, sure to show them to her father when she could. Maybe she'd visit him soon. Maybe she'd pick up where Dani left off by taking pictures with him.
There were pictures of her and Jay. Ugh, Darcy's nose crinkled. Next, next, next. Thank God there's nothing scandalous here, she thought.
Prom pictures. Old friends from high school. Wow, most of these people are gone now, Darcy marveled. Shot, moved away, military, car accident, shot.
She moved on.
Her. It was her and Dani.
Their mother must've taken the picture given the crooked angle. "Girl, I don't know how to work this thing. You must think I'm old," she could just hear her mother's words.
Dani was seated at the foot of her bed, made evident by the pink and purple colors under her.
Seated on the floor, between her legs, was Darcy with a face balled up in annoyance. Fresh Fulani braids in her head and Dani's hands cupped against her cheeks, Darcy held a comb that was prepped for popping as Dani crouched down to kiss Darcy's face.
Darcy smiled fondly at the photo, having forgotten how affectionate Dani always was. Love was like breathing for her. She was love.
She must've gotten that from their father.
She continued her journey through the box. Through tears and through laughter, she picked through one item at a time until she was left scratching at the floor of the box.
It was there that she found a rubber banded stack of envelopes.
How'd she even find a rubber band big enough for this, Darcy scoffed at what looked like a packet of mail.
She disbanded the stack, finding envelopes each with a name on it. One for Aria, one for her father, and one for her.
"Mama didn't get one?" she softly questioned before remembering that her mother was the one who'd given her the box to begin with.
She probably took whatever she wanted and left the rest to be divided by everyone else. That'd be on brand, she thought.
She clung to her letter, staring at her name written in flowery ink on the envelope.
She couldn't bring herself to open it. Not now.
If not now then when?
Only time would tell.
And as she stood in the silence of her bedroom, she realized that the clank against her wall had stopped.
It was time to put her sheets in the dryer.