Crap. She should have had them done by now. Nat’s Fancy Finds was an online boutique that Natalie started about five years ago. At first, she only sold jewelry and accessories. Back then, Whitney was working hard to get her photography business up and running. Her degree had been in business, but she didn’t have a lot of real-world experience. While she and Dan were married, she’d stayed home with Amelia. That’s when she’d taken up photography. It started as a way to capture pretty pictures of her daughter but it became apparent early on that she had a talent for it.

When she and Dan split up, Whitney took a part-time administrative job, which worked out perfectly since she was off right around the time Amelia got out of school. Money was tight, and she worried that even if she snagged a full-time job, she wouldn’t be able to afford daycare. Dan probably would’ve helped pay for it, but she hated relying on him for everything. Hated giving him the ammunition. Something to lord over her. When Natalie first started her business, she hired Whitney to take some photos for her website.

They quickly became friends, and shortly after, when Natalie added clothing to her inventory, she brought Whitney on as a full-time marketing manager for the business. Whitney was able to work flexible hours, mostly from home, or occasionally at the warehouse where she was able to bring Amelia if need be.

Last week, Whitney had done a photoshoot of their new spring line. Some of those photos had been edited, but not all of them. Heading over to her desk in the corner of the family room, Whitney sank down onto the seat, the padding sighing beneath her. After logging on to the computer, she texted Natalie back: I’ll have them to you soon.

For the next hour, she worked intently, only glancing up when she heard the click of Amelia’s door opening. The sun had started to go down outside. The sky was a deep blue, almost purple with flecks of gold glittering the edges. Whitney rubbed her blurry, tired eyes.

“What’s for dinner?” Amelia asked, stepping into the room. She was wearing a pair of leggings, a long T-shirt and fuzzy socks. Her hair was pulled up into a messy bun at the top of her head and her face had been scrubbed clean. The smell of her peppermint lotion was strong, even from across the room.

“I don’t know.” Squinting, Whitney glanced at the time on the bottom of the computer screen. “It’s getting late. You wanna just grab takeout? We can order pizza or call that Chinese place you like.”

Leaning her shoulder against the wall, Amelia frowned, her nose wrinkling. “Nah, I’m trying to eat healthy, remember? I’ll probably just make a salad or something.”