Her face was pale, but the rise and fall of her chest was steady.
Reva was the first to approach, brushing a strand of hair from Capri’s face. “Oh, honey,” she whispered, tears slipping down her cheeks.
Charlie Grace stood on the other side of the bed, her hand on Capri’s arm. “You scared us, Cap. But you’re okay now.”
Lila nodded. “We’re here for you, Capri. All of us.”
Jake finally stepped into the room, his boots thudding softly against the floor. He moved to the foot of the bed, his gaze fixed on Capri. She stirred slightly, her eyes fluttering open.
“Hey,” he said softly, leaning closer. “You gave us all a scare.”
Capri’s lips curved into a faint smile. “Sorry...didn’t mean to.” Her voice was barely a whisper before her eyes drifted shut again.
Jake swallowed hard, his throat tight. He reached out, brushing his fingers lightly against her hand. “Rest up, Trouble. We’ve got you now.”
Jake’s chest tightened. But not in a bad way. In that moment, he was more than grateful. Capri had suffered an accident that had left them all reeling. In the end, she was going to be all right. The recovery would, no doubt, be long and arduous. While difficult, Capri would do the required work and regain her physical abilities in full.
But until then, he wasn’t planning to leave her side.
9
It was nearly dawn when Charlie Grace dropped off Lila at her house. “Hope you get some sleep. It’s been a long day…and night.” Charlie Grace brushed a kiss on Lila’s cheek, and they briefly hugged.
Lila reached for the door handle of the old truck, feeling it wiggle loosely under her grip before it finally gave way. “You, too. And thanks for the ride.” She got out, waved, and shut the passenger door.
The frosty air of the mountain morning bit softly against her skin, carrying the crisp, clean scent of pine. The faint outline of the moon hung low in the predawn sky, its pale light casting a silvery glow that lit the winding path to her porch, making the landscape seem both ethereal and still, as if holding its breath for what lay ahead.
She savored the sight and sighed. Sometimes it felt like she was losing the moon.
Lila stepped into her warm kitchen, the familiar hum of the refrigerator and the faint smell of vanilla from the diffuser grounding her after the long, emotional day. Even at this early hour, Camille sat at the table wearing a bathrobe, her hands wrapped around a steaming mug of tea, her face anxious.
“How’s Capri?” Camille asked before Lila could take off her coat. The question carried a tremor of worry, and Lila paused to meet her daughter’s eyes.
“She’ll be okay,” Lila said, her voice calm but tinged with weariness. She hung her coat on the hook by the door and sat across from Camille. “Her leg’s badly broken, and she needed surgery, but thankfully, there’s no spinal injury or head trauma. Jake is moving in with her to take care of everything while she recovers. It’s going to be a long road, but Capri’s tough.”
Camille nodded, her shoulders relaxing a little, but her lips remained pressed into a thin line. No doubt her daughter had been worried. She’d always admired Capri, the fearless friend of her mother who seemed unshakable even in the most chaotic of times.
“That’s good,” Camille said softly. “Jake seems like a great guy. He’ll take good care of her.”
“He will,” Lila replied with certainty. She reached for Camille’s hand, her fingers brushing over the younger woman’s knuckles. “But let’s talk about you. Have you given any more thought to your plans? When you’ll return to school?”
Camille’s expression stiffened instantly, and she leaned back, cradling the mug against her chest as though it were a shield.
“I’ve made my decision,” she said, her tone defensive. “I’m going to take classes remotely.”
“Remote classes?” Lila repeated, her brows knitting. Despite her earlier reservations, after careful consideration, Lila now firmly believed the less disruption to Camille’s education, the better. “Camille, I understand that’s an option, but is it really the best one? You’ve always dreamed of the college experience. Living on campus, making friends, being part of something bigger. You can still do that. There are so many girls who go to class pregnant, who find a way to make it work.”
“Not me,” Camille said sharply. “I’ve already enrolled for online classes. It’s done.”
Lila’s stomach twisted. She forced herself to take a calming breath before speaking again. “But why? Camille, you’ve been so excited about college since you were little. Why throw that away?” Let alone how hard Lila had worked to get her there, she thought.
“I’m not throwing anything away,” Camille snapped, her eyes flashing. “This is what’s best for me now. Isn’t that what you always taught me? To figure out what works and stick to it?”
Lila hesitated, searching her daughter’s face for some crack in the armor, some sign that this wasn’t just stubborn defiance but fear or hurt she could soothe. But Camille’s jaw was set, her gaze unyielding. Whatever was driving her refusal to return to campus, she wasn’t ready to share it.
“I just want you to think about your future,” Lila said quietly. “About what this decision might mean for the path you’re on.” She paused. “Everything you do now will affect what’s ahead for not only you…but your baby.” She swallowed, still finding it hard to push those foreign words from her lips.
Camille’s shoulders stiffened, and she stared down into her tea. “I am thinking about my future,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m doing what I need to do, just like you did when you got your degree online. You worked, raised me, and made it happen. Why can’t I?”
