Murphy, the butler, hadn’t held back at all when he whipped her in the chapel.


    The pain was unbearable.


    It hurt so much she thought she might die.


    She missed her dad, her mom.


    Even Rowan drifted through her mind.


    It was like she was begging him again, pleading with him not to leave her behind.


    He was saying something, maybe trying to exin, but before she could make out the words, her phone rang, dragging her out of the nightmare.


    Hershes and skin were damp with sweat. She nced at the caller ID, still dazed, but answered anyway. “Hello?”


    As soon as she spoke, she realized how hoarse her voice sounded–raw and burning with every word.


    “Dr. Elissa!”


    A warm, enthusiastic voice greeted her on the other end. “It’s Mrs. Garrett–do you remember me? Janice? I was one of your clinic patients.”


    “Of course, Mrs. Garrett. Is everything alright?”


    “Oh dear, what happened to your voice? Are you sick?” Janice’s concern was


    immediate.


    Elissa’s reply was thick with congestion. “Caught a chill, I’m afraid. Is there something bothering you?”


    “No, no, nothing like that.” Janice chuckled kindly. “I’m making pies today and wanted to ask what kind you like. I’ve got an appointment with you in a couple of days, so I thought I’d bring you something homemade.”


    The gentle affection in the older woman’s voice warmed Elissa from within.


    She managed a smallugh. “That’s so thoughtful, but you should keep them for yourself-”


    “Nonsense,” Janice replied in that firm, grandmotherly way. “You’re home alone, aren’t you?”


    <b>1/3 </b>


    11:15


    “I am.”


    “Then let mee over–I’ll bring some groceries and meat, and we can make the


    pies at your ce!”


    Janice’s enthusiasm was contagious. “You’re sick and probably don’t have the energy to cook. I’ll fill your freezer with pies, and you can just heat one up whenever you’re hungry.”


    Before she quite knew how it happened, Elissa found herself reciting her address.


    It was strange.


    She’d always thought of herself as someone cautious, guarded.


    Maybe it was because Janice really did seem like the sweetest olddy.


    Or maybe it was because she’d rarely been on the receiving end of this kind of genuine care. Janice, even just over the phone, felt a little like family.


    Despite the fever, Elissa suddenly felt a bit more present, a bit more alive. She dragged herself out of bed, washed her face, and changed the dressing on the cut on


    her forehead.


    She’d barely finished freshening up when Janice bustled in, arms full of groceries.


    “Feeling any better?” Janice set the bags down, washed her hands, and reached out to feel Elissa’s forehead. “Still a bit warm. Go rest in your room, sweetheart. I’ll call you when the pie’s ready.”


    “I’ve slept enough. Let me help you,” Elissa replied, her voice still soft from sleep, making her seem even gentler than usual.


    Janice’s eyes softened, looking at her as fondly as if she were her own


    granddaughter. “Alright, but why don’t you rx on the couch for a bit while I prep the dough and filling?”


    “Okay,” Elissa agreed easily, then perched herself on the back of the couch to watch Janice’s busy figure in the kitchen.


    The winter sunlight streamed in through the kitchen window, silvering Janice’s white hair, trailing down to the gentle curve of her spine as she worked.


    For a fleeting moment, Elissa didn’t feel quite so alone.


    Just for now, it felt as if she had family again.


    She’d never made pie before, but she was quick to pick things up, and soon her


    11:15


    attempts looked almost as good as Janice’s.


    As they worked, Janice nced at the bandage on Elissa’s head. “How’d you end up hurting your forehead?”


    Elissa smiled lightly, lips pressed together. “Just an ident.”


    Janice’s hand brushed affectionately over the bandage. “Don’t you have any family here in Vistapeak City?”


    “I… don’t have any family,” Elissa replied, her hands still busy shaping the dough. “My parents passed away when I was young.”


    Her grandparents had died even earlier.


    Janice’s hands stilled for a moment.


    A flicker of pain crossed her eyes, as if she was remembering something. “My grandson’s parents died young, too. You and he… you’re both such brave kids.”


    “He used to have a little girl living with him forpany, but something happened in their family. He was afraid of dragging her into it, so all these years, he’s been on his


    own.”