The temperamental-stomached Shih Tzu had ralphed twice before even reaching Round Rock. Now the dog lay whimpering wrapped in a towel in the passenger seat. Maggie wasn’t feeling too hot, either. But the questionable growls coming from her gut weren’t from the drive, but from an overwhelming surge of anxiety filling her head with all sorts of uncertainty. Moving on…leaving woes behind. The big change. Or so those two-dollar twenty-something-year-old therapists liked to call it back at Hood. Packing up her home, or what remained of it, was harder than she had anticipated. Memories and wounds opened and reopened spilling out all the sadness and anger and regret and utter loneliness. Seeing all of Ricky’s things in boxes felt—surreal. Not euphoric or cathartic as she had hoped. Numb would probably be the best word to describe how she felt now. Numb and perhaps maybe even a little pissed. And now she was on her way south, to Jotham, to finalize a new start.
