It had been a long, unbearable ride, but I was finally home; thanks to my very nice and understanding cab driver who only needed two pit stops on our seven our trip. Our eyes met in the rearview mirror as the older woman asked for the address. I recited the “1624 Wishing Well Lane” I had scribbled on a napkin. It wasn’t home exactly, but at least Kayla would be waiting for me. Hers was one of the only numbers I knew by heart, and she’d insisted I crash at her place when I called from a rest stop in Alabama. A weight evaporated from shoulders when her building came into view. I’d visited several times, but the large stone facade still reminded me of an enchanted castle. I set my purse in my lap and dug through my wallet. I’d have to cancel my phone and get another one before Troy intercepted too many calls. What other option did I have? I couldn’t just call him up and ask for it back. Once I reached the front door, my weariness set in as I mashed the button by her name. Kayla buzzed me in by the third ring and greeted me as soon as I made it up the two flights of stairs.
