Page 10 of Wild Promise

No one answered, but muffled voices drifted from the kitchen, pulling me toward them.

“I’m telling you, you’re doing it wrong,” Lucy complained.

I peeked around the corner and found both my sisters fighting over something on the stove in the dim room.

“And I’m telling you, I’m not,” Olivia shot back. “But it would help if I could actually see.”

Lucy shifted aside, and a small flame jumped to life between them.

“What the hell are you doing?” I hurried into the room.

Lucy startled, but Olivia didn’t even flinch. “Cooking,” she said like the answer should be obvious.

“Then I agree with Lucy, you’re definitely doing it wrong.”

Olivia finally looked at me, unimpressed. “If there was electricity in our house, I wouldn’t need to resort to this.” She gestured toward our dad’s old camping stove. The small, two-burner propane grill was balanced on top of our electric range, a dented pot set over the flame.

It was kind of genius.

Then her words sank in. “What do you mean, if there was electricity?”

Olivia’s hard expression softened, making her look years younger. She could be so darkly sarcastic at times, it was easy to forget she was barely eighteen. “The power’s off.”

“There was a red card on the door when I got home from school,” Lucy added, her gaze cast downward, avoiding mine.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

No wonder the house was so cold—no electricity meant no heat. I’d forgotten to pay the bill. Again.

Like everything else lately, it had slipped behind while I chased deadlines, overtime, and the promotion I kept telling myself would fix everything.

How could I have let this happen?

Work had become my entire focus. Impressing my bosses. Proving myself indispensable. Clawing toward stability one exhausting shift at a time.

I told myself I was doing it for them. For my family.

But what if that was just the thing I told myself so I wouldn’t feel guilty?

The job had been my dream long before I needed the raise that came along with it. But there was no point in earning the promotion if everything at home fell apart in the process.

I swallowed hard against the lump rising in my throat.

“It’s okay.” Maybe if I kept saying it, I’d convince myself it was true. “I’m sure it was just a mistake. I’ll get it sorted.”

“We know.” Olivia stirred whatever was inside the pot.

Thank goodness for these girls. Yes, they were my bratty little sisters, and at one point in time, I’d been resentful of them—it was hard to welcome a new sibling after being an only child for nine years—but I’d be lost without them. Because even though I was responsible for them, in reality we’d become a team. A pretty damn good one.

“How’s Dad?” I asked.

Olivia’s brow furrowed. “He still hasn’t come out of his room.”

“But he’s fine.” Lucy pulled bowls from the cupboard. “I just heard him flush the toilet a few minutes ago.”

Well, at least we still had running water. “Okay, I’ll go check on him.”

“Spaghetti will be on the table in about fifteen,” Olivia called after me. “I hope you can convince him to come and eat.”