She closed her eyes and thought back to their fight at her place. Besides being angry with Jill, she was also upset with herself. The things she said to Jill—accusing her of being like her mother and telling her she wasn’t worth it—still made her sick to her stomach. She had probably hurt Jill as much as Jill had hurt her.

The countdown had started in New York, and she reached for her phone. She unlocked it as the ball dropped, again staring at Jill’s text. Those three words had the power to overwhelm her if she let them. She scoffed at herself. Who am I kidding? They already have. She couldn’t lie to herself anymore. She missed Jill terribly. She had wanted to brush off the text as soon as she had gotten it, blame it on Jill just being lonely around the holidays. But she knew deep down that it was more than that. Jill never expressed her feelings easily, so she imagined that sending that text had been difficult for her.

Reagan watched as people celebrated in the streets of New York. With a new year came new beginnings, and Reagan just needed to decide if she wanted Jill to be part of those beginnings or not.

Nadine opened the front door with raised eyebrows. “Ms. Jacobs. We weren’t expecting you.”

“Is my mother home?”

“Yes. Please come in.” Nadine stepped aside and waved her in.

“Thanks.”

“Can I get you anything?”

“No, thank you. I won’t be staying long.”

“Very well. I’ll show you to the den.”

“It’s okay. You can retire for the night.”

“But—”

Jill held up her hand. “It’s getting late. If my mother puts up a fuss, I’ll tell her it was my idea.”

Nadine continued to eye Jill with suspicion. “If you’re sure?”

“I am. Have a good night. Oh, and Happy New Year.”

“Thank you, Ms. Jacobs. You too. Goodnight.”

Jill found her mother sitting in a leather chair, one leg crossed over the other and a tumbler of whiskey in her right hand. She softly cleared her throat. “Hello, Mother.”

Her mother turned so quickly she splashed whiskey over the side of her glass but didn’t seem to care. “My darling daughter,” she slurred.

Jill held in a sigh. She didn’t expect to find her mother drunk. Drinking, yes. Drunk, no. Her mother didn’t like anyone to see her drunk, even if it was at home. She’d always told her it was unseemly. So even though her mother drank often, she usually kept herself in check. “Is everything okay?”

“Oh, just great,” she replied before taking a long sip. “What brings you by this evening?”