Richards

Nancy and her mother sat at the dining table, silently eating until her mother finally spoke softly.

"Have you spoken to him?" Mrs. Winters asked cautiously.

"I haven't," Nancy said, tightening her grip on the fork. "I don't want to trouble him, Mom. And… this is our problem, not his."

Her mother sighed. "But dear, we can't figure this out by ourselves."

"I don't feel like discussing it, Mom."

Pushing her chair back, Nancy stood up and left for her room, her chest tightening with frustration as she recalled everything going through her mind.

She collapsed onto her soft bed, releasing an exasperated sigh. Why now? When everything was going so well, her past had to resurface, like a shadow that won't leave her alone.

She gazed at the ceiling, deep in thought, when her phone unexpectedly illuminated with a message.

It was Tyson.

Goodnight, my Princess!