I stood in front of the house, going over the address Riley had sent me. My fingers tightened around the handle of my suitcase, aching from the drag of overloaded bags across the city. My body felt like it had been through a war. Jetlag. Anxiety. A suitcase I should've named and buried. But most of all, the weight of starting over.
The house towered in front of me, elegant and sharp like it had something to prove. Samantha had found it, of course. I told her to choose whatever fit me best, and of course she nailed it—simple but striking, dark-toned with a quiet kind of allure that didn't need attention to feel important.
I hesitated before ringing the doorbell. The door swung open instantly, and I was ambushed by Lisa's grin. Her short hair was tied into a lazy bun, strands escaping like they had places to be. She had the same sparkle in her big brown eyes that could make even the worst day feel tolerable.
Before I could speak, she tackled me with a hug. "Girl, you've gained some weight since I last saw you!" she whispered.
I snorted. "That's what happens when you grow."
She pulled back, laughing like it was the best joke she'd heard all week, and dragged me inside without another word. The door shut behind me with a satisfying click, like I'd finally stepped into something that was mine.
The chandelier hanging above sparkled like a crystal crown. The staircase curved like something from a movie set. The color palette was moody and balanced, the lighting bright without being too much. Samantha had thought of everything.
Lisa vanished. One second she was there, the next I was being pulled into a chair by invisible forces—Riley's blue-green eyes and Samantha's brown ones gleaming like I was some prize they'd won.
"Riley and Samantha," I muttered, smiling. "Of course."
Riley pulled me into a tight hug. "I've missed you so much, Bloom!" she said, using the nickname they'd given me back in high school when we thought the world was kinder.
Samantha, ever the composed one, extended a hand. "So? What do you think? Too much?" she asked, half-proud, half-anxious, eyes flicking across the decor like she needed my approval.
"It's incredible," I breathed. "I can't believe the money I sent actually did all this."
"You should never doubt Samantha Wilder," Riley said with a dramatic flourish.
"I really shouldn't." I laughed, genuinely for the first time in a while.
"Thank you. All of you." I pulled them in again.
"Can't breathe!" Lisa gasped beneath the group hug.
I let go, settling onto the couch while they clustered around me like protective satellites.
"I'm here," I said quietly. "Finally. Fresh start."
Riley caught my eye. "You're not alone, Bloom. We've got you."
Lisa nodded. "Where do you want to start?"
"Job," I replied instantly. "That's priority one."
Samantha lit up. "There are tons of openings. If you're ready, we can start tomorrow."
Riley added, "After you sleep for sixteen hours."
I smirked. "Deal. Tomorrow."
"Now," I said, rising to my feet, "tour?"
"Absolutely!" they shouted.
I pointed toward the door. "I might need help with my things though."
"Handled," Lisa said with a grin. "I'm the only one here strong enough to lift those bags. Except maybe you, if you ever went back to the gym."
The sass. Some things never change.
Riley and Samantha exchanged a look as if to say we could lift them if we wanted to, and I couldn't help but laugh.
As I followed them down the hall, I caught sight of their toned backs and muttered, "Is there a gym nearby?"
"Yeah," Samantha replied. "And if you go there looking like that, I promise you'll get attention."
"What does that mean?" I asked.
"You'll see," she said with a smirk.
The house was larger than it looked from the outside. There was a garden that looked like it had been pulled from a fairytale, and a small library tucked into a corner like a secret waiting to be discovered. The kitchen and dining area were sleek, almost futuristic—but it still somehow felt like home.
Then came my room.
The moment I stepped inside, I froze. The wallpaper was covered in soft wisteria patterns, and the bed—king-sized, dark purple sheets, glass castle etched into the center like a storybook centerpiece—was everything I never knew I wanted.
Tiny butterflies were etched in silver, barely visible, but there.
And above it all, a massive picture frame. A collage. Not just any collage.
It was me.
Pieces of me.
No Ed Sheeran posters or YouTube stars from my teenage past. This was different—photos I didn't even remember sharing, quotes from books I loved, shots of the city I missed, the childhood memories I thought were lost.
I blinked fast.
Samantha appeared beside me. "Too much?"
I turned and hugged her so tight I nearly snapped her spine.
"This is beyond perfect. How did you even—"
"You talk a lot when you're half-asleep," she teased. "And I have eyes. And a memory."
I laughed. "You're dangerous."
"Don't forget it."
She stepped back. "Anyway, Lisa brought your stuff up. I have a meeting, Riley's off to her boyfriend's place, and Lisa's gone—her dad called. So… looks like you're free to unpack."
I nodded. "Thank you again. All of you."
Samantha waved it off like it was nothing, but I could tell she meant it.
And then I was alone.
The house was quiet.
The air was still.
And for the first time in a long time… I didn't feel like I was running.
I felt like I was somewhere.
Even if I didn't yet know what that really meant.