Page 116 of The Best Shot

I squeezed her hand. She squeezed back.

“Tell me about Denise’s—your new place,” I said.

CeeCee wiped her face with the hem of her shirt.

“It’s very beige.”

“That’s standard. You going to paint it?”

“Yes. Denise and I settled on colors already.”

I nodded. “She’s solid?”

“She’s… a lot like me right now. Tired. But we make each other less scared.”

“That counts for a lot.”

“Yeah.”

We stood there longer than we needed to. Then I nudged the cart forward.

We were almost at the front of the store when she spoke again.

“Yaz.”

“Yeah.”

“Thank you.”

My hands flexed on the cart handle, then eased.

“Anytime,” I said.

We kept moving.

I was already hearing it. The apartment with nobody in it. No shoes kicked off by the door, no vitamins crowding the counter, nobody calling down the hall at eleven at night to ask if I’d eaten.

Halfway to the register, I stopped.

CeeCee glanced at me. “What?”

I turned the cart around without answering.

“Yasmine.”

I kept going.

The gray elephant was still slumped on the bottom shelf where I’d left it, ears puddled over its feet.

I hauled it up and dropped it into the cart.

CeeCee watched me when I turned back.

“I thought we were putting things back,” she said.

“We were.”

“Then why⁠—”