Each small task felt like reclaiming a piece of herself that she hadn’t realized she’d been giving away. Sometimes, in the quiet afternoons, she’d catch herself thinking of Lisa. The hurried voice on the phone, the distracted nods, the forgotten promises. There had been so many little moments that now fit together too neatly.
The way Lisa’s gratitude had started sounding more like expectation. “I was always there,” Helen said once aloud, the words strange but satisfying. She wasn’t angry anymore, not exactly. Just… awake. Still, when her phone buzzed, her heart always jumped. She’d check, half-hoping, half-dreading.