Page 7 of The Clifftop Cottage

Erica squeezed her eyes shut and rolled away, burying her face in the pillow, as if she could slip back into the dream.

“Wakey, wakey, sleepyhead!”

Leah’s sing-song voice cut through it. The mattress dipped as she sat down, her cool hand brushing Erica’s forehead.

The touch was soothing – almost enough to make Erica believe, for a second, that it was her.

“I thought you were her,” Erica whispered.

Leah’s hand stilled. “Oh, Erica.” She squeezed her shoulder gently. “Don’t wait for her.”

“I’m not,” Erica said, sharper than she meant. She opened her eyes. “Don’t you think about her?”

Leah hesitated, then nodded. “Of course. But I don’t expect anything from her anymore. And neither should you.”

The words sat between them.

After a moment, Leah gave a small shrug. “You’ve got me, though. That has to count for something.”

Erica nodded, though the hollow feeling in her chest remained.

Leah clapped her hands together, shattering the moment. “Right! Enough wallowing. What you need is a hearty breakfast and a sightseeing tour. I bet you don’t even know half of what Rock Cove has to offer, do you?”

Erica groaned again, rolling onto her back. “I know you love it here, and that’s enough for me.”

Leah gave a mock gasp. “How dare you! Rock Cove is full of surprises. Dad’s family came from here, you know?”

Erica frowned. “But that’s not why you moved here.”

“Well, no,” Leah admitted, grinning. “Dylan’s rig is close enough to make it the perfect spot for us to start a family. And I knew here.” She squeezed Erica’s shoulder. “But honestly, it’s a lovely place. You’ll see.”

“It’s not London, though,” Erica muttered.

Leah tilted her head, considering. “No, it’s not. London’s amazing. But it’s also chaotic, overwhelming, and exhausting – especially when you’re raising a family. Rock Cove? It’s peaceful. Safe. And” – she gave Erica’s shoulder a playful nudge – “exactly what you need right now.”

Erica didn’t respond, staring up at the ceiling instead.

Leah sighed, rising from the bed with a swirl of purpose. Her blue uniform was crisp, but her damp hair hung loose, as if she’d rushed through her morning routine. “London will always be there. But right now, you’re here. And if you give it a chance, you might just find it’s what you need.”

Before Erica could retort, Leah flashed her a teasing smile. “It’s hardly life or death, Eri. Now, pick yourself up and come down and eat something. If you don’t, I’ll personally drag Maisie out from school to jump on your bed.” She tapped the door with a light rap, the sound cheery and determined, before disappearing down the hall.

The room fell silent, save for the faint cry of seagulls and the hum of wind against the windowpane.

Erica lay there, staring after Leah’s retreating energy.

It’s hardly life or death.

The words echoed in her head, hollow and mocking. Leah didn’t know the half of it. She didn’t know how death clung to Erica like a shadow – how it had shaped her fears, her choices, and now this hollow version of herself that barely resembled who she used to be.

Erica turned onto her side, pulling the duvet tight around her shoulders. She closed her eyes against the light and the world outside.

But it was there, beneath the covers, that her mind betrayed her most. The memories she couldn’t outrun crept in: her mother walking away without looking back, and Steven’s broken promises.

Leah was wrong. Underneath it all, it had always felt like life or death.

Even when no one else could see it.

After a breakfast of eggs, bacon, and toast, Leah ushered Erica out the door and remained at the threshold, arms crossed, resolute.