Indigo’s chin touches her chest while she plays with her cuticles. I glance at Enya, whose eyes widen as she signs at me to say something.

“This is not permanent,” I say. “You can find a place to stay in less than a week. I can talk to that realtor, Cora, if you want.” I look at Enya for confirmation. She nods, eyeing Indigo.

“Yeah. I know,” Indigo replies absently. “There are just too many things going on and moving in with you doesn’t seem like the right choice. I can sleep at a hotel.”

“No,” both Enya and I reply.

“It’s time to take your life into your own hands,” the older woman says, caressing Indigo’s hair to relax her.

She sighs and nods reluctantly. “I’m not going to cook.”

“Okay.”

“Or wash your clothes.” She points at me and I let out a laugh, raising my arms in mock surrender.

She grabs her phone and calls the removal company. Enya and I exchange looks, neither of us sure of how this will go.

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

INDIGO

Elias is in his room, getting some work done, while I sit on the ugly couch, watching a new Netflix movie. I have to admit that it’s pretty good so far. Feels like my life with all the fake relationships and shit.

Most of my things are in a private lockup; I’ve just got the bare essentials here in the hope that I’ll have my own place soon enough. For the past couple of days, Elias has slept on the couch. We’ve shared a bed at his parents’ house, but this feels different. Maybe that’s why he made a makeshift bed on the couch before I could say anything about it.

I’m really struggling to get back to normality, but then what is normality for me? Sitting on the couch all day, eating, sleeping, waking up, repeating? Hell no. I want to do more than that now, but I don’t know what.

I want to paint again. The project in Olivia’s room was a good start, but I’d like to do it for myself again, not just as a favor. But unfortunately, I have no motivation to do it. I don’t know where to start or what to do. Drawing was a big thing for me in my high school years, but Mom made me stop. I’ve started and quit a lot of things because of her. It was like as soon as she sensed I was starting to love a hobby she took it away.

Dog One jumps on my legs, shaking me from my thoughts. I still haven’t thought of names for them. I’ve looked for some on the internet, but they’re all unoriginal.