Page 28 of Rescue in Misty Mountain

“Harper,” she says. “My best friend.”

I nod, giving her space, but my gut’s already tight.

She answers, voice bright. “Hey! Yes, I’m alive! I miss your face, too. No, I’m still in Colorado... No, it’s not like that…”

She drifts toward the edge of the porch, her voice lowering.

A pause.

Then: “Wait, what? Really? They actually reached out?”

Another pause.

Then laughter—surprised, delighted. Hopeful.

And just like that, I feel it.

The shift.

I can’t hear all of it. Just bits and pieces.

“…the studio wants to see more… no, it’s not official, but it’ssomething…”

“…maybe New York, but the LA branch is looking…”

It hits me like a cold wind to the chest.

She’s not from here.

She’s not staying.

She’s not mine.

Not really.

Tessa ends the call and turns back toward me, cheeks flushed, eyes bright. “Sorry,” she says. “That was my friend. She might’ve gotten me a lead with a design agency—a real one. They want to see some of my samples.”

I try to smile. “That’s… great.”

She tilts her head. “You think?”

“I do,” I say. “It’s a big deal.”

“It’s just a lead,” she says quickly. “Not a job. Not yet.”

But it’s more than that.

It’s a reminder.

This is a pause for her. A breath between chapters.

And me? I’m not even on the same page.

“You should go after it,” I say, voice lower than I mean it to be.

She frowns. “I haven’t said yes.”

“You should still go.”

---