Ash hurried downstairs and found Becca in the kitchen, dressed in her standard uniform of khakis, button-down, and her LAPD windbreaker. “Sensible clothes for a sensible lady,” Ash liked to tease.

“Sorry I’m late. I swear to God they must have gone to Sicily for this pie,” Becca said with a rueful smile as she placed the pizza on the counter. She kicked off her shoes and hurried over to the fridge, pulling out the salad fixings. “How was the mission today?” Becca asked.

There it was. Another one of Ash’s lies. She used to volunteer twice a week at the Union Mission, teaching photography classes and helping out in the soup kitchen. Since she met Nate, those evenings were spent with him and the Tribe.

“It was fine,” Ash said. “Nothing new to report.”

Usually, Becca wanted more details, requiring Ash to come up with elaborate stories about her volunteer work. Tonight though, Becca seemed tired, not at all her usually inquisitive self.

Ash watched as Becca began pulling china and cutlery from the cabinet. Before Ash moved in, she’d never even seen china, except on TV. Growing up with her birth mom, Ash learned to scrounge for food. Usually it was straight out of a can, her mother passed out in another room or off on one of her dates. Not Becca. The entire Ortiz family took food very seriously. Each night they’d sit down at the dining table for dinner, even the nights Becca worked late, even if it was only takeout.

“Are you okay?” Ash asked Becca as she began setting the table.

“Kind of a terrible day,” Becca said, sighing heavily as she pushed her long black hair out of her eyes. “We lost a jumper. Married, two kids. I don’t think we could’ve done anything to stop him, but…” Becca trailed off.

Ash could see Becca’s hands were trembling, her eyes ringed red. Becca was a shrink who worked with the LAPD. Her unit was dispatched to all kinds of calls involving crazy people, which meant she saw a lot of terrible shit. Ash hadn’t even though about what Becca might be dealing with. Here she was moping around about a fight with her boyfriend, while Becca was watching someone end their life.

“Wanna talk about it?” Ash asked, working hard not to seem distracted.

“Actually, I thought we could eat and then I might take a bath, get to bed early.”

Ash’s shoulders sagged with relief. “Sure. That sounds good.”

They dished up the pizza and salad, settling at the dining table to eat. They discussed Ash’s latest photography project, and upcoming spring break. Eventually, the conversation waned, Ash and Becca caught up in their own thoughts, and they ate in silence.

Half an hour later, Ash was back in her room, sprawled out on her king-sized bed, Freud curled up at her feet. When Ash first moved in, she couldn’t believe this giant bed was all hers. She’d never seen anything so soft and luxurious in her entire life. The blankets were so soft that she used to say it was like lying on clouds.