Page 53 of Stuck with my Boss Daddies

Because the longer I stayed, the harder it would be to leave.

Hayley studied me for a moment before leaning back in her chair. “So, what’s next on the Sadie Collins Life Plan?”

I let out a breath, swirling the tea in my mug. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out. Still. I know, it’s taking me forever.”

“Well,” she said, propping her chin in her hand, “figure it out after pancakes?”

A laugh escaped me. “Bribing me with food?”

“I prefer to call it strong encouragement.”

I shook my head but smiled. “Fine. Pancakes first, existential crisis later.”

“That’s my girl.”

After breakfast, I curled up on my bed with my laptop, trying to convince myself to apply for jobs outside of Medford, away from The Foundry.

Medford wasn’t supposed to be permanent.

I needed to remember that before shit got complicated.

Or more so, anyway.

But instead of searching for listings, my fingers hovered over the keyboard before typing something else entirely.

Willow Creek Orphanage.

The name alone sent a sharp pang through my chest.

The small orphanage, close to Medford, a million miles away from Phoenix…

Or at least that was how it felt at the time, because Phoenix was the only place I’d lived before the accident.

I hesitated before hitting enter, bracing myself for whatever I might find.

The screen filled with images—some familiar, some painfully different. The same brick walls, the same narrow windows that had once felt like prison bars. But everything looked… worse.

The paint was peeling.

The playground in the back, the one I used to escape to when I needed to breathe, was rusted and abandoned, the swing set missing its seats.

The front steps, the ones I had sat on countless times, waiting for someone who never came—who could not come—looked cracked and uneven.

A pit formed in my stomach as I clicked on an old article.

Funding cuts.

Staff shortages.

The words blurred. My throat tightened.

Of course. Willow Creek had never had enough, not even back then. But seeing it like this, barely holding on, felt worse.

Grief hit me all at once, raw and unforgiving.

I hadn’t gotten over the car crash when I landed at Willow Creek.

I could still remember the coldness of that first night, the way the bed had felt too big and too empty, the way I had cried so hard my chest ached.

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