chapter one, the internship
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{one month prior}

Silence enveloped the house.

No stir, no sound, no creak with the wind, and yet Grace was convinced she could discern the gentle strains of her mother's voice.

...oh sweetheart...

It brushed against her neck with the tenderness of a whisper, tracing kisses upon her skin as it delved deeper into the recesses of her ears. 

...I'm right here...

It was an otherworldly voice, and for a time, Grace surrendered to it. Unable to resist the alluring embrace of her mother's voice that continued to envelop her.

...I've always been here...

Her eyelids yielded to its gentle touch, and just as they were about to shut completely, she sat upright on the bed, dispelling the presence.

The house, in response, hushed once again.

Grace ran her hands over her face, tugging at her pale skin. The echoes of her mother's voice surfaced a week... a week after her passing.

It felt like a lingering disease, invading her thoughts with memories that played over and over until she couldn't help but let them out—

Throwing them up until her stomach clenched with the ache of her mother's features, and her tongue carried the taste of her voice.

Just thinking about it caused Grace's stomach to churn, a weighty sensation settling in the depths of her throat.

Gently getting up from her bed, she felt the chill of the cold wood floor under her feet. The house remained silent as she moved, not a sound except the rhythmic drum of her own heart.

Her family's house, a rambler on the outskirts of town, boasted half-peeled siding and chipped doors. To many, it might not have been much, but to her, it was everything.

The walls were adorned with family photos, her height marked on a living room column, and the essence of all their hearts woven into the very fabric of the home.

Even with her mother's passing, nothing changed—not even the dust that rested in the corners of the house.

It felt like everything was mourning her.

Grace entered the kitchen, the lone light filtering through the sink window. Slowly, she slipped into her routine, toasting four pieces of bread and brewing coffee for her father.

For years, it had been the same routine every morning, and she doubted she could change it even if she wanted to.

It stayed that way even after her mother left— the one constant in Grace's life, the reliable factor she could always count on.

A gentle creak resonated from the hallway, causing Grace to raise her head. Her father strolled into the kitchen, arms stretched out in a lazy yawn.

His hair was a tousled mess—his beard fluffy, brown strands spilling over his forehead.

"Morning, sweetheart," he mumbled through a yawn, strolling past her and planting a gentle kiss on the top of her head.

She responded with a smile, leaning against the kitchen island. The toaster went off, but neither of them moved.

"Excited for the internship?" he asked, pouring coffee into a colorful mug.

Grace hesitated. Her mouth went dry and words stumbled in her head for some reason.

She hadn't really given much thought to the internship. Sure, she knew about it and had signed herself up a couple of weeks ago, but she didn't think it would follow through.

Usually, things didn't work out for her.

Her father blew at his coffee, turning to face her. She noticed his red eyes and heavy bags but kept it to herself.

"Yeah— yeah, I think so," she murmured, offering a gentle smile.

He lowered his coffee, just gazing at her, captivated by the resemblance to the woman he loved so dearly.

Still loved so dearly.

Sometimes, he'd catch glimpses of her in the way Grace spoke or moved, the familiar smile, and the way her eyes crinkled at the corners when she laughed. It was all there.

Clearing his throat, he spoke, "Your mother would be proud of you for taking the job," his voice low and genuine.

Grace closed her eyes at the mention of her mother, the wound still fresh. She knew her mother would be proud, but the absence stung.

Her voice echoed in her mind, the same soothing tone she'd heard since her passing.

...It's alright...

...I'm here...

The repetitive words lingered, etching themselves into her thoughts.

...It's alright...

...I'm here...

The phrase burned behind her eyes and clung to her tongue, refusing to fade.

"You're gone," she whispered to herself.

"You're dead."

The voice dwindled into silence, leaving Grace with a metallic taste on her tongue.

"Sweetheart?" her father questioned, straightening against the kitchen counter.
"Are you okay?"

She ran her tongue along the inside of her lip, detecting a warm spot.

"Yeah—" she began, only to be interrupted by Grayson, casually strolling into the kitchen.

He passed both of them, saying "Good morning" as he reached for three plates in an upper cabinet.

His hair had gotten longer since their mother died, covering the tips of his ears and curling in the curve of his neck.

He wouldn't admit it, but he stopped cutting it because their mother was the one to do it.

"Good Morning," their father chimed in, and Grace silently appreciated Grayson for the diversion. Despite that, their father's gaze still remained on her.

Grayson placed the toast on the plates, smearing peanut butter on all four pieces before passing a plate down the counter toward their father and carefully placing the other one in front of Grace.

He smiled at her, but knew she wouldn't eat it.

For the past couple of months, she'd lost her appetite, and Grayson's concern didn't escape her notice, though it didn't alter the situation.

Merely looking at the plate before her made her head spin, her body swaying. Gripping the countertop, she steadied herself.

Grayson opened the fridge, calling out, "Hey," as he snapped his fingers to grab Grace's attention. "Good luck on your internship."

She tilted her head, offering a sheepish smile. "You remembered," she drawled out, secretly grateful for the words.

He shook his head with a smirk.

The words, "Good luck," echoed in her mind, and she melted into them, appreciating the break from her mother's voice.

—the thought of something new.

Grace couldn't recall the last time she felt this way—free—and she sure as hell wasn't going to let anything stop it from happening again.

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The trip to Silver Falls Animal Care Center passed quickly. Nestled at the town's farthest edge, it stood as a humble brick building, marked by a white sign at the entrance.

People were leaving and entering, all smiling one way or another. Grace sat in her car, hands on the wheel, peering through the window at the building.

She was hesitant, unsure why she hadn't stepped out yet. Maybe it was nerves, fear, or simply a resistance to change.

—the kind of change she experienced when switching schools, learning to drive, or facing the passing of her mother.

It was the kind of feeling that lodged itself in the back of your throat, burdening you.

Keeping you rooted.

Grace took a deep breath, and her mother's voice echoed in her mind.

...Go on now...

...I'll wait...

Soft, almost nervous, the tone lingered before fading away. Grace seized the moment of silence, opening her car door. Animal footprints on the sidewalk guided her toward the entrance.

Head held high, she noticed another person leaving as she approached.

They pushed the door open, brushing past Grace and letting it close just before her face.

What?

Did that just happen?

Swiftly turning around, she caught their attention, exclaiming, "What the hell?"

The person paused at the sidewalk's end, slowly turning around, blonde hair curving around their forehead with unruly strands.

Giving Grace a thorough glance, they spoke, "Next time, look out." And just like that, they walked away.

Grace stood there for a moment, observing the person vanish into the parking lot.

What the hell was that about?

Who the hell was that?

She stared blankly as they got into a car and sped out of the parking lot. The tires filled the air with a squeaking noise, prompting Grace to turn around and open the door.

Stepping inside, her eyes darted around—clean white walls, painted murals on the windows, and a wooden-framed desk welcomed her within the building.

She approached the front desk, a middle-aged brunette woman sat there, engrossed in typing on her computer.

"Hi!" she greeted in a high-pitched voice. "How can I help you?"

Grace offered an awkward smile. "I'm here for the internship."

The woman glanced away from her computer, grinning wider as she sized up Grace.

"Katherine!" she called over her shoulder.

A red-haired woman swiftly appeared, holding a clipboard under her arm. She halted behind the desk, wearing a smile with her hair tied in a messy ponytail, a few strands framing her face.

Looking up at Grace, she smiled. "You must be my intern," she said, motioning for Grace to follow her around the desk.

"I'm Katherine Walter's," she introduced, extending her hand.

Grace shook it gently. "I'm Grace Calaway."

"I know," Katherine grinned, starting to stroll down the hallway. "I've heard all about you."

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━ Authors note!

Hi — hello! I genuinely hope you have enjoyed reading this opening chapter and will continue reading the rest of the book!

Vote and comment if you enjoyed!
I love you all. Stay hydrated.