Chapter Fifteen - Shared Paths?

The first few weeks of Harriet's second year at university felt like both a continuation and a new beginning. The weight of the past still loomed heavily over her — the shadow of her family, the secrets, and the heartbreak that had once defined her life. 

But this year, Harriet was determined to make it different. She had a goal, and that was to focus on her studies, particularly in Midwifery, and to move forward in her own quiet way.

She had been at university long enough now to know the rhythms of campus life: the early morning rush, the flurry of bodies in the crowded lecture halls, the hushed conversations in the libraries, and the odd moments of peace that snuck up when you least expected them. 

Today, that moment of peace found her in the campus café, one of her favourite spots. The buzz of students around her was muted as she sat alone at a corner table, nursing a lukewarm coffee that she had long since lost interest in.

The café's large windows allowed the afternoon sunlight to filter through, casting a warm glow on everything in the room. Harriet let her eyes wander outside, watching the gentle sway of the trees in the breeze, but her mind was elsewhere — on the past, on her family, and on the inexplicable knot in her chest that she couldn't quite shake.

Her thoughts were interrupted when a voice, soft yet confident, broke through the hum of the café.

"Sorry, Do you mind if I sit here?"

Harriet blinked, pulled out of her reverie. She looked up to see a girl standing at the edge of her table. The girl was probably in her first year, maybe a freshman, with wide, curious eyes and an expression that seemed a little uncertain, like she wasn't sure whether to ask. 

She was holding a stack of books under one arm, all brightly coloured and well-worn, evidence of her commitment to her studies.

"Sure, go ahead." Harriet said, gesturing to the seat across from her with a small smile.

The girl took a seat, settling her books down on the table with a quiet sigh, as if the weight of the world had been on her shoulders, even for just a moment. Harriet observed her as she fumbled with the cup of coffee she had ordered, clearly in no rush to dive into her day.

"I'm Talia." the girl said, finally meeting Harriet's gaze with a warm, open smile. 

"First day here. I just started, a few weeks late! I know it's kind of early for a coffee, but I thought I'd try and get some work done before all the madness starts."

Harriet raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "I'm Harriet. And yes, I completely understand. Early mornings are my time to try and pretend I have my life together."

Talia laughed, a sound that was light and refreshing. "Right? Same here. I'm kind of all over the place with everything at the moment. So much to learn but so little time."

"I get that." Harriet nodded, shifting her coffee cup in her hands. "What are you studying? Let me guess — Sports?" she added with a playful smirk.

Talia shook her head, amused. "Nope! I'm actually in Midwifery."

Harriet blinked, her interest piqued. "Wait, really? Midwifery? Me too!"

"Yeah!" Talia responded, clearly eager to share. "It's always been my passion, you know? I think the experience of birth is such a complex thing. I want to be part of the team that gives women the support they need during that time."

Harriet's eyes softened, something inside of her shifting. "You're right about that. Midwifery is one of those fields where you can't just focus on the physical aspect. The mental side is huge too."

Talia leaned forward slightly, her eyes bright with excitement. "Exactly! The emotional side of it is just as important. So much happens during childbirth, both physically and mentally. You really get to know a person in a way you wouldn't expect."

Harriet's heart skipped a beat. There was something in Talia's words — in the passion that she spoke with — that felt so familiar. Harriet had always felt that way about midwifery: it wasn't just about the birth itself. It was about everything that surrounded it. The stories women told, the trauma some endured, and the deep psychological bond that formed through such an intense experience. The delivery was just the end point. The journey mattered more.

For a moment, there was a pause between them, just the soft hum of the cafe in the background. Then Talia spoke again, her voice a bit quieter this time, as if she were carefully choosing her words.

"So, what made you want to study midwifery? You seem like you've got a lot of thoughts on it already."

Harriet hesitated, the words coming slower than she expected. "Honestly, I think it's because I've always been fascinated by the intersection of mind and body. The psychological aspects of birth, of what it means for a woman to go through such a transformative process. I've always wanted to understand what people go through — not just physically, but mentally, emotionally."

Talia's expression softened, a genuine empathy in her eyes. "I get that" she said quietly. "There's so much to birth that people don't talk about. It's not just the delivery, you know? It's the experience, the trauma, the vulnerability. It's about creating a safe space for people to feel empowered."

Harriet nodded, feeling more connected to this girl than she expected. Despite their different paths, they shared a deep understanding of what it meant to help others — especially in a way that was deeply rooted in empathy.

Before long, Talia stood up, brushing off her jeans. 

"Well, I should probably head to class." she said with a grin. "It was really nice meeting you, Harriet. I'm glad we talked."

Harriet smiled back, her gaze lingering on Talia for a moment longer than usual. "Yeah, it was nice talking to you too. I'm sure we'll see each other around!"

As Talia walked away, Harriet found herself watching her go, a sense of unexpected connection settling over her. For the first time in a while, the overwhelming weight of everything didn't seem so crushing. Maybe there was more to university than just the academics. Maybe, just maybe, there were still people who could understand her.

And then, without warning, the walls she had built around herself, the walls that had been so carefully constructed over the past few years, seemed just a little less solid.

After the long day of classes, Harriet found herself back at the familiar, slightly worn-out sorority house. It had only been a few weeks into the second semester, but the feeling of being back on campus had already begun to settle into the routine. 

Her room, tucked away on the second floor of the house, was an oasis of calm amidst the chaos of student life. The whitewashed walls were adorned with the familiar mix of photos, posters, and a few college souvenirs. 

There were no reminders of the Baldwin family drama here. It was her own space, and for the first time in a while, it felt like she could breathe a little easier.

Harriet sat on her bed, her fingers grazing the smooth surface of her phone. She hadn't spoken to her mom or dad in a few days, and despite the distance — both physical and emotional — she felt the pull to check in. 

She missed her family, or at least, the idea of them before everything had gone kinda sideways. The way they used to be, when the weight of Cece's secrets and the constant pressure of perfection hadn't shattered them all, but they were trying to get back on track. And that was something.

With a deep breath, Harriet dialed the number and held the phone to her ear, waiting for her mom's familiar voice.

"Harriet, honey, how are you? How is school?"

The warmth in her mother's voice almost caught Harriet off guard. Camila always had a way of making things sound a little better, a little less complicated, even when everything was falling apart around her. 

Maybe that was the strength of motherhood, of being Camila Baldwin — the unspoken control over the chaos. But still, beneath her mother's caring tone, Harriet could hear the exhaustion, the worry, the weight of everything that had happened. It was a constant undercurrent in their conversations.

"I'm fine, Mom. Just... school is busy again. It's already starting to feel like the second year is picking up speed already." Harriet replied, shifting on the bed and trying to mask the tension in her voice. 

"How is everything at home?" She asked.

There was a slight pause on the other end of the line, as if her mother was weighing her words carefully. Then, Camila spoke, her voice softer. 

"You know how it is. We're all okay.. Aunt Julia came over for dinner last night. Mariah made us meatballs. It's been nice having her around more lately. Jackson and Aura are doing well. I spoke to Cody this morning too."

Harriet smiled faintly at her younger siblings doing well, though her heart sank a little at the mention of her aunt. 

Julia Baldwin was a reminder of the family ties that were once so tight, but had since frayed. Still, her aunt had been a source of support after the chaos with Cece and her untimely death. Julia had always been the calmer one in the family, the one who provided the space that Harriet occasionally craved but never really got.

"Good. It's good to hear she's around more." Harriet murmured, her thoughts drifting back to home, and the complicated mix of relief and sorrow that always seemed to accompany her family.

"And how is... how is Harper doing?" Harriet's voice was gentle now, and Harriet could feel her mother's concern in the question. 

They both knew Harper had been through a lot, especially after being released from Juvie, they both knew that no one, not even Camila, truly knew the depths of what Harper was currently battling.

Camila hesitated for a moment, unsure of how much to reveal. She didn't want to worry her eldest more than she already had, and she didn't want to share the dark feelings Harper seemed to be harboring — the ones she couldn't even fully comprehend herself. But at the same time, Harriet was worried regardless. 

"She's... okay, I guess. Probation is going well." Camila said carefully. "She's keeping to herself more than usual. She's... I think she's still struggling. But that is expected, isn't it?"

Harriet heard a sharp intake of breath from her mother's end of the line, a small, barely audible sound, but one that made her feel more connected to Camila than ever. Camila didn't speak for a moment, as if weighing her own words.

"I just want her to feel safe again. To feel like herself." Camila murmured. 

Harriet closed her eyes, leaning back against the headboard. She could hear the unspoken pain in her mother's voice, the sense of helplessness that had been there since Cece's death. They were all trying to find their way back from that, and somehow, it seemed like none of them knew where to begin. Even a year later.

"I know, Mom." Harriet said softly, her voice thick with emotion. "I'll try to talk to her. I just... I don't think she's ready to open up yet. I mean, would you? After being put through all that?"

Her mother sighed again, and there was a long pause before she spoke. "I just want to make sure she knows she's loved, and that no one is blaming her for anything."

Harriet swallowed hard, the ache in her chest growing. She had always felt like a secret outsider in her own family, but hearing her mother's words made her realise just how much she, too, longed for a connection. 

Her parents had been distant for so long, caught up in their own battles, but beneath all of that, she knew they loved her and the others.

"Please keep an eye on all of them." Harriet replied, her voice steady but soft. 

There was a brief silence on the line before Camila's voice returned, tender and reassuring. "Harriet. You're a good older sister. I know it's hard, but I'm so proud of you. I just want what's best for you and your siblings. Me and your father couldn't be more proud of you."

Harriet closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. For a fleeting moment, the weight on her shoulders felt a little lighter. But she still felt that guilt. The guilt of letting Harper take the blame.

"Thanks, Mom" she whispered. "I'll call again soon."

Shaking herself from the emotional fog, Harriet turned back to her desk, pulling up her laptop and opening up the coursework she'd planned to get through. It wasn't easy to focus, but midwifery wasn't going to be studied by itself, no matter how much she wanted to escape her thoughts.

She began typing out some notes for a research paper on postpartum care, her fingers moving quickly as she tried to distract herself. 

The soft hum of the computer was the only sound in the room, a contrast to the whirlpool of thoughts that refused to settle. The weight of her family's drama, the growing concerns for Harper, and even the odd encounter with Talia today... It all circled in her mind, not letting her go.

After a few minutes, she noticed the faint ping of a notification from her social media account, breaking her concentration. She glanced at the screen, expecting it to be some random post from a classmate or a silly update. But what caught her eye was something different: 

a new friend request.

Harriet's brow furrowed as she saw the name — Talia Carver. She didn't recognize the name at first, but it clicked when she remembered her earlier encounter at university. The freshman in midwifery, the one who'd seemed so eager to get to know her. 

Talia. 

Harriet hadn't thought much about her since their brief exchange, but now that the name popped up, she couldn't help but feel a little... suspicious.

It wasn't that she had anything against the girl, but there was something unsettling about how quickly Talia had taken a shine to her. 

It was almost too eager, like a little too much too soon. The coincidence of Talia finding her on social media — after their first real conversation — It wasn't like Harriet was that hard to find, but still. Was she being overly cautious? She hated feeling like she was doubting people, especially when she wasn't even sure what the feeling was about.

Still, Harriet was no stranger to reading between the lines, to noticing when things didn't add up. And Talia's sudden request felt a bit too coincidental. Her curiosity made her hesitate for a moment longer, her finger hovering over the "accept" button. But before she could dig any deeper into her suspicions, the more rational side of her brain took over.