"Come on, baby, you got this!" Nate yelled. Next to him, Jay was shouting his own encouragements, his rising sun bandana tied tightly around his forehead.

It was pitch black outside, and the cage was illuminated only by parking lot's lights. Mac was inside, fighting another mammoth. Both men were covered in blood. The "ref" called for the end of the round, and Jay bounded into the cage with Nate on his tail.

"Hey! Nice first round. Light and fresh. How you feeling?" Jay crowed as he dragged Mac to his corner.

"Terrible," Mac sassed. "Fucking terrible."

"Well, ya look great! Ay, Nate, water him down."

Nate stopped dabbing at the cut on Mac's cheek to pour a stream of water into his waiting mouth.

"Hey, I need you to listen to something," Jay continued. "I need you to look at me. I need you to understand one thing. Look at me, Mac, right in the fucking eyes right now!" When their gazes connected, Jay said slowly, "Pussy. Hates. A loser."

"What?"

"Pussy hates a loser," Nate affirmed.

"Okay."

"Pussy hates a loser. What does pussy hate?" Jay asked.

"Pussy hates a loser," Mac parroted.

"We fighting in the junkyard for a reason! Cause you a junkyard dog!" Jay shouted. "Come on, Mac!" He spanked his friend as he stood up. "You're a bull master, motherfucker! Fuck this boy up!"

When the horn blared again to signal the start of the next round, Jay, who was high as a fucking kite, started yelling more innuendo. "He don't like it – he loooooves it!"

Nate glanced at Jay, eyebrows raised.

Mac threw one punch – there was a squelching sound, and then the guy was hitting the floor. The ref immediately called the fight. Nate threw his arms up in shock. He laughed when he realized Mac had won.

Within seconds, Jay was in the cage. He knocked Mac to the ground, peeled his own shirt off, and started to mime fucking him from behind. Mac, however, was more interested in the girl in cutoffs and a bikini top bringing him a case of beer.

"That's my boy!" Jay screamed. "That's! My! Boy!"

"I'm sorry you had to see this," Nate said, following his brother into the cage.

"Mac, you motherfucker!" Jay yelled. He flipped Mac onto his back and lifted one of his feet.

"Why are you doing this?!" Mac shouted back.

Nate shook his head at his brother. "Jay, stop fucking him. Stop fucking him, Jay."

Jay cracked open one of the beer cans and took a long drink.

The water in the showers was always cold. That was the one thing about the shelter that Zoey could never get used to. She missed the hot, steamy showers she used to take at Alvey's house.

She soaped up quickly, running a safety razor over the little black prickles on her calves. She shampooed her long hair vigorously and rinsed well before she shut the water off and got out. She wrapped the thin, white towel around her body and scrubbed herself dry. Showering wasn't the same in Surprise as it had been in Venice. There, it had been a daily necessity. Here, it was more of a privilege.

Zoey shrugged her secondhand shirt over her head and wrapped her hair in a towel while she stepped into a pair of donated athletic shorts and pulled them around her hips. She took a moment to stare at her blurry reflection in the fogged up mirror before opening the door and heading back out to the shelter's bedroom.

"Qúe tal, Dolphin?" a little boy called. His name was Luis, and he was eleven years old. He'd showed up in the middle of the afternoon last Tuesday with a big bruise across his cheek.

Zoey gave him a smile as she passed. She went into the staff room, sat down on the mat where she slept, and dried her hair as much as she could. She then combed her fingers through the hair atop her head, pulling it into a thick, messy bun. As she was winding an elastic over it, Ellen, the shelter manager, stopped in.

"Hey, sweetie. We need to start getting lunch ready. How many kids today?"

Zoey held up six fingers as she got to her feet and followed Ellen down the hall.

"Okay. And we got a call – a little girl is on her way here. Sounds like she's eleven or twelve."

Zoey nodded. There was a time when she'd try to ask what the new girl's situation would be, but she'd been working at Reunited long enough to know that most of the time, all the information they had was that there was a kid en route to the building. Sometimes cops brought them to the sanctuary, but most of the time, they got runaways. That's how Zoey had turned up, after all.

She must have looked like a mess when she knocked on the glass door. It was nighttime and a woman had dropped her off right outside the door. She'd hitchhiked to Arizona, trying to get to the Grand Canyon. Jay had always said it was beautiful there, and she thought it might clear her mind. But when this woman found her shivering on a street corner in the same clothes she'd been wearing for six days, she brought her straight to the shelter.

Ellen had come to the door, asked her age, and then let her in to get warmed up. Zoey was just as thankful for the warmth as she was for the glass of water and the toothbrush that Ellen brought her.

Zoey's birthday came and went, and summer turned to fall. School started up again, and Ellen got Zoey ("Dolphin," she'd dubbed her, after the mute comic book character) enrolled at Willow Canyon, which was a sad school, but at least she was on track to graduate in time. She didn't have any friends since she didn't speak, but she found friends in the kids that came through the shelter and in Ellen and her daughter, Jo. Jo was a little older than Zoey, which meant she could help Zoey with physics. Zoey definitely appreciated that part, especially now that Nate wasn't around to glance at her homework.

She followed Ellen into the kitchen where Jo was already getting started.

"We're doing a lasagna casserole," Ellen told her. "Easy enough."

Zoey nodded and went to grab marinara sauce from the pantry. Any time they had Italian, she was reminded of dinners at her father's house. At Jay's, they tended to stay away from pasta and garlic bread as much as possible as not to relive the bad memories. But at least Ellen and Jo's recipe was as simple as it was fantastic.

"Hey, Mom, can you preheat the oven?" Jo called.

"Dolphin! Dolphin!" a small voice called urgently. Kennedy.

Zoey set the sauce down and jogged to the door. She tilted her head in question.

"Jamie fell down and he scraped his knee real bad!"

Zoey let little Kennedy tug her down the hall. The little kids always got into shenanigans, but the older kids couldn't be watching them all the time. Sometimes it was better that they didn't. One of the older boys, Joseph, was going to be in big trouble soon if he didn't stop messing with the younger girls. Zoey felt dirty every time he looked at her, and he was only 15.

There wasn't nearly as much blood as Zoey was expecting on Jamie's tiny knee, but she fawned over him anyway. God knew these kids didn't exactly have anyone to care about them anywhere else.

She sat him up on the bathroom counter like Jay used to do for her and put cool water on a paper towel. He leaned on her shoulder as she patted the blood off of his skin and bandaged him up.

Kennedy and the other little girl Julia watched as Jamie got a hug and a kiss and was placed back on the floor.

"Is lunch soon?" Kennedy asked, drawing the attention back to herself.

Zoey nodded but smiled in spite of herself. Those kids were always hungry. She turned the sink back on to wash her hands. It's lasagna, she wanted to tell them, but she still couldn't find her voice.

"Can we guess?"

Zoey grinned and nodded. This was the kids' favorite game. Guess what Dolphin is thinking. Guess what Ellen and Dolphin and Jo are making for dinner. Guess which kid Dolphin is thinking of. Guess Dolphin's favorite color.

"Is it meat?" Julia asked.

Zoey shook her head.

"Is it pasta?"

She hesitated and then nodded.

"Kind of like pasta?"

She nodded.

"Is it casserole?" Kennedy whined.

Zoey moved her hand back and forth to say "so-so."

Julia propped her hand up against her chin. The girls were quiet, thinking. Zoey ripped another paper towel off the roll to dry her hands.

"Lasagna!" Jamie suddenly shouted.

Zoey nodded enthusiastically and reached down to high-five him.

"Oh, good," Kennedy sighed in relief. "I was worried it was that god-awful green bean casserole." At Zoey's stern look, Kennedy apologized. "Sorry, Dolphin!"

Not only was there a strict rule about language, but the shelter had a sort of religious tone to it. They prayed before meals and before bed, and Ellen had crosses hanging in some of the rooms. She talked about Jesus sometimes, too. Jo didn't seem too into it, but even though Zoey didn't fully believe it, she was really taking to it.

Jay had always believed in God and Jesus in one way or another, and Nate told her once that he thought he maybe believed in God. Still, even with her Catholic father, Zoey had grown up only going to church on Christmas, so all she really knew about were the three wise men. She felt closer to Jay when Ellen talked about Jesus, so she always made sure to be around when it happened.

Zoey pointed to herself and then in the direction of the kitchen, letting the kids know she had to get back to helping Ellen and Jo. They scurried down the hallway the way they'd come, giving Zoey a moment alone before she went back to work. She thought about her family – she wondered how Nate was doing, what Jay was up to. She wondered whether Nate had gotten back to fighting and whether Jay had stuck with it. She hoped they were getting along alright with her father. She hoped Lisa was still with Alvey. She hoped Ryan was still clean.

The days were long at the shelter sometimes, but the weeks always passed quickly. Nate's birthday was coming soon, and Zoey had yet to decide whether or not to drop him a line. She hadn't on Jay's birthday because she was too afraid; the wound had still been too fresh. And still, she knew that if she heard her brother's voices, she would want nothing more than to go home. But she'd found her own home here.

The last thing Jay needed was to be putting more drugs into his body, but there he was, snorting a line of coke.

"I miss your old house, man," Mac stated.

It had been more than two months since Nate, Jay, and Christina had relocated a few blocks away. They were a little further from the beach and from the gym, and it was significantly smaller, but Christina had wanted this house, so here they were. Nate had been less than pleased with the move; not only were they leaving the place everyone knew, but the new house only had two bedrooms. One for Christina, and one – Jay insisted – for Nate. That meant two things. First, that for upwards of eight weeks, Jay had been sleeping on the couch. That made for a crankier brother. And second, even worse: it meant that there was no space for Zoey. Nate had been livid about relocating and given Jay way too much crap about it. Jay was trying to accept the fact that she'd left and move on. Nate was still connected to her, though. He could still feel the moments she laughed and the nights when she cried herself to sleep. He had no idea where she was, though, and now that Jay had basically erased her from their family, it felt like she might never be coming back.

"Fuck my old house, dude," Jay said breathlessly. "I like this place." He sat down on the couch (his bed) and took another pull of cocaine through his nose. "I got my – I got my own theories about this whole fucking thing."

"What thing?"

"You know, about the whole business industrial complex of the sport. Sport. You know? See?" He leaned forward. "It's fucking… it's… it's like, I'm a fighter, dude. I'm a fucking fighter. I'm not a sportsman, sir! Jesus!" He launched off the couch and over to pick up his weights. "Did you ever read Sigmund Freud?"

"I know who he is."

"He's fucking amazing, Mac. For instance. Do you ever get depressed?"

"Oh, when I think about my grandpa! Like, uh, like he was more like a father." Mac began, but Jay quickly cut him off.

"No, like, for no fucking reason. Like you're sitting in your house and you can't manage to do another fucking thing. You can't motivate."

"Yeah, yeah," Mac agreed. "Yeah, I know what that is."

"That's fucking Freud, dude. That's fucking anxiety, and you're having it because you're suppressing your impulses. All the shit that is built into you – fucking, fighting, surviving – all the animal shit. Um. But. However," he stumbled. Mac did a line. "We have to have that. Otherwise, you cannot have a functioning society because you got motherfuckers like me who are going around stealing everyone's money and property and fucking women. You have to suppress, Mac." Jay leaned down to do another line, and when he sat back up, he had tears in his eyes. "That just, that, that – that just makes me really sad."

"No no no no no, hey hey hey," Mac said, smacking Jay lightly on his calf. "No no no. Hey, what are we talking about, Jay?"

Jay stared at Mac for several seconds, his lips trying to form a smile.

"Is this… I know you said not to talk about it, but… is this about Zee?"

Jay blinked and then broke into a loud laugh. Cocaine was smeared under his nostril, and his hair was sticking out from his head in all directions. "Everybody's too fucking careful!" he decided. "We should all man up and follow her goddamn example."

"And do what?" Mac asked carefully.

Jay grinned wildly, trying to hide the pain in his eyes. "Get the fuck out of here."

"I get the worst hours of anybody," Christina complained to Nate. They'd stopped at a little café for lunch, and Nate was already done with his food. The only thing to do was scroll through his phone and listen to his mom complain.

He'd gotten used to her – it was easier to with Zoey gone. With no one to bitch about her with, she didn't seem so bad anymore. Maybe it was just easier for Christina to behave with Zoey out of the picture.

"Nobody wants to work that shift? Give it to Christina. In the meantime, this Madison girl who has gigantic boobs has Jamal wrapped around her finger. I wouldn't be surprised if she's making the schedule."

"Why don't you just tell this guy what hours you want to work?" Nate suggested.

"It doesn't work that way, honey." She chuckled at his innocence. "Haven't you ever had a job?"

Nate smiled sheepishly.

"That's actually not good."

"I get paid to fight," he reminded.

"Yeah, but… you need to know what it feels like to have a boss."

"And why do I need to know that?"

Christina raised her eyebrows. "Oh, pardon me, your highness," she sassed, mockingly bowing to him.

It reminded him of Zoey, and he smiled. He glanced down at his phone checking for the millionth – no, billionth – time to make sure he hadn't missed a call or a text from an unknown number.

"You're getting a little cocky," Christina told him. "It's actually very attractive, Nate. Women like it."

"That's good to know, Mom. Thank you."

In an effort to pull Nate back from his phone, she asked, "How's Kacey?"

"She's good."

"You two doing okay?"

"All good," he said dismissively. He didn't need to be discussing his beard with his mom.

"She's not going crazy with you training? No drinking, no good food, no sex-"

"Are you almost done with that?" Nate interrupted, shaking his head.

"Almost!"

"Good." Nate sat back and sipped his Vita Coco.

"Is your brother ready for his fight tonight?" she asked, changing the subject. She'd already succeeded in making him uncomfortable – she didn't want to make it too obvious.

"The guy pulled out."

"That's too bad," Christina said, her tone less than sincere.

"Yeah, it sucks," Nate agreed, not picking up on it.

Her voice went up an octave. "S-so, is he gonna be home tonight?"

"No, we're gonna watch Ryan."

"Hmm. Well, I guess I'll just have the house to myself," she said pointedly. "Again."

Nate gave her a tight smile and then looked away.

"Oh, I'm not fishing for an invitation," she grumbled. "I'll just… sit at home and do my nails like an old retired lady whose friends have all died." She took a vicious bite of broccoli.

"You're not retired," Nate reminded her with a smirk. "You work at the Patty Palace."

The kids were all clearing their plates and stacking their dishes for Jo when the loud buzz of the doorbell filled the air.

"Alright, show time," Ellen said. She waved Zoey towards her and they headed for the front door. They were met by a tall police officer, who had a little girl in tow. She was thin with mousy brown hair and big, nervous brown eyes, and she had a little red backpack slung over one shoulder. Zoey gave her a reassuring smile.

"Hi," Ellen said to her. "I'm Ellen, and this is Dolphin. What's your name?"

"Sophie," she answered. Her soft voice was nearly inaudible.

"Well, hey, Sophie. Come on in." Ellen stepped out of the way to let her through the glass door. "Dolphin here is gonna show you where you can put your stuff, and then she'll give you a tour. Oh, and she doesn't talk, so if you think she's ignoring you or being rude, she's not. She's really sweet."

Sophie nodded matter-of-factly. At home, Zoey might have been a little put off by the cold behavior, but when she'd shown up here, she knew she'd acted very similarly. Every kid came for a different reason, but they had all experienced a similar darkness.

Zoey smiled at her again and motioned her toward the girls' bedroom. There were six cots arranged in two lines on either side of the room. It was like something out of Nanny McPhee or Madeline, but that comforted Zoey. At least that was something she recognized.

She swept her hand out over the room as if to tell Sophie to pick one. Julia and Kennedy slept next to each other in the beds on the left, and Tabby, who was 14, had chosen the furthest bed from the door on the right. Sophie took a moment and then chose the bed on the right that was closest to the door. She set her backpack down and then covered it with the pillow. It didn't do much in terms of hiding her possessions, but if it made Sophie feel better, Zoey was glad she did it.

Zoey led her down the hall and showed her the kitchen. She took her inside and let her meet Jo, who was still doing dishes. Jo gave her a little spiel about the dining room and the food they normally ate and what time they ate it. Zoey felt a little inadequate that she couldn't do it herself, but she reminded herself that every few days, she tried again to make herself talk. Still no dice.

"Have you met the other kids?" Jo asked.

Zoey and Sophie both shook their heads.

"Do you know where they are?" Jo inquired.

Zoey held up four fingers and then twisted her index finger and her middle finger. B R. Boys' room.

"Okay." She looked at Sophie. "Dolphin signs sometimes. Do you know any sign language?"

"A little," Sophie answered. "I learned some in fifth grade."

"Cool! Maybe you two can talk to each other."

Zoey only knew six or seven signs, though. They were ones she'd had to pick up out of necessity. Some things she could mime, like asking for the time, but other things like kids' names and the locations of things were more complicated. She'd learned the alphabet, which was the most helpful. Jo and Ellen already knew it (she figured from other runaways who'd come through), and the kids thought it was fun to learn the motions. The younger ones especially picked it up very quickly.

Sophie followed Zoey down the hall to where they boys slept. The room was identical to the girls', with six cots lining the walls. The kids were all sitting in the middle except for Joseph, who was perched on his bed, watching the younger runaways like a vulture.

Zoey snapped twice to get their attention.

"Hi!" Kennedy said, climbing out of Tabby's lap and getting quickly to her feet. "What's your name?"

"I'm Sophie," Sophie answered shyly.

"I'm Kennedy! And that's Julia, she's my best friend. And there's Tabby and Jamie and Luis." They all waved.

"Hola," Luis smiled.

"How old are you?" Kennedy asked.

"Eleven."

"Me too!" Luis piped up.

"I'm seven," Kennedy said proudly (Zoey had to hold in a silent laugh), "and Julia's six."

"I'm only five," Jamie sighed glumly.

"Yes, but you're with me," Tabby reminded, " and I'm fourteen, so you get like five extra years for that."

"So I'm…" he said, trying to do the math in his head.

"Ten, loser," Joseph sneered.

"Hey!" Tabby exclaimed angrily. "Leave my brother alone."

Jamie's lip stuck out.

"Don't be mean," Sophie told Joseph. "Nobody likes mean people."

"Then I guess nobody likes you."

"I do!" Kennedy said, grabbing onto Sophie's hand.

"Yeah, me, too," Julia added.

"And me."

"And me!"

"And me."

Zoey stepped forward with the kids, showing solidarity with them.

Joseph, who was completely unfazed, chuckled. "Aw, the loser brigade. How sweet."

"At least we have each other," Tabby told him. "You don't have nobody!"

Zoey put a hand on her shoulder to reel her back in. All these kids came from broken environments. Nobody had it easy or they wouldn't have run away in the first place. She lifted a finger to her lips and then tapped her wrist. Quiet time.

The girls retreated to their room, and Jamie followed. After lunch, they were allowed to write, color, read, nap… anything that didn't make noise. Tabby and Jamie always took a nap together, and Julia and Kennedy liked to write notes back and forth. Since Ellen and Jo always supervised this part, Zoey usually went back to her mat to sleep. (Before the cots were donated to the shelter, the kids slept on mats with one pillow and blanket each. By the time the cots came, Zoey was used to the mat and she wanted to keep it.)

She brushed her long hair back over her shoulders and laid down. She couldn't feel anything from Nate, which had become a blessing. Thinking about her family too much made her ache. She shut her eyes and willed a dreamless sleep to come soon.

"Eddie," Lisa called as she walked briskly up to the promoter. She was breaking up a conversation between three men, but she didn't give a damn. "Where's Garo?"

"Lisa," he smiled, "You look good. Ah, Garo had a bit of a health scare, so you got me tonight. I'm running things."

"What happened?"

"He has what's called an anal fistula… how did he describe it. It's kinda, kinda like an abcess…"

"It's okay," she interrupted. "You really don't have to-"

"…in the asshole region."

"Okay, stop. Please. Please please please. That's disgusting. What are we gonna do about Jay?"

"Ahh. I am so sorry about Jay. But what are you gonna do?" he shrugged. "It happens."

"No, it doesn't 'happen,'" she countered. "You guys gotta lock down these fighters! It's getting ridiculous."

"I hear you."

"And also, just a little FYI – Jay's on the rampage."

"Whoa, wait, why are you pointing at me? Hassan fucked him over, not us! We're hurting too!"

"Fix it!"

Before dinner, Zoey scrawled a note to Ellen. Could I go to the library?

"Sure, sweetie. Can you pick out some books for bedtime while you're there?"

Zoey nodded and then headed out the door. Nate's birthday was the next day, so she figured she should drop him an email. She knew how to block the IP address so he couldn't trace her. Part of her wanted him to find her, but she knew she had to stay away from her family. It was better for all of them this way.

She walked two blocks down the road to the library. They closed at 6:30 and it was only 5, so she had plenty of time. She sat down at the desktop computer that would have the least foot traffic behind it so she could disable the tracers without anyone seeing. Then she opened a blank email and stared at it for several moments.

22, she typed. She thought about linking a YouTube video of Taylor Swift, but she decided that would be too much. She looked at the screen for another long minute and then typed a bit more. She hit send before she could change her mind.

To: nkulina5

From: [Undisclosed Sender]

May 9, 2015 5:24 PM

22. Wow.

Hope j reads you the Dr. Seuss book.

Miss you. Have a great bday tomorrow.

"Hey!" Jay yelled, patting Eddie on the back. A fight was underway, and the promoter was shouting calmly into his phone, trying to be heard over the noise of the crowd.

Eddie turned to see Alvey's sons, who were flanked by a tall redhead.

"Hey, pal!" Jay said again. He looked pissed. "Do you know where Garo is by any chance?"

"Yeah, I'm on the phone with him right now," Eddie said. Bad move.

"Hey, Garo! It's Jay! How ya doing?!" Jay called, trying to project his voice into the phone. He was clearly drunk off his ass.

"I'll call you later," Eddie rushed. "I'll call you back later." He hung up and then looked at the Kulinas. "Hey look, I'm sorry about the fight. I talked to Lisa. We're gonna take care of you, okay?"

"Great, yeah," Jay replied sarcastically. "How do – how do you figure you're gonna do that?"

"I don't know yet. But we're gonna get you on a big card. A real big card."

"Big card," he repeated. He shook his head. "But maybe, maybe I don't want to be on your big card. Maybe a fighter such as myself deserves better than your ghetto-ass fucking promotion."

"Step back a little bit, Jay," Eddie warned.

"These are the thoughts that start running through my head when you start denying me my fucking right to work!"

"You know what? Fuck you, Jay."

"Oh, 'fuck you?'" Jay mocked.

"I will take a little bit of shit from you, alright? I will fucking-" Eddie lowered his voice. "I will eat a little bit. I'll take a bite, but that's it, alright?"

"Okay, we're good," Nate interrupted, stepping up next to Jay and putting an arm around him.

"Back the fuck up right now," Eddie warned.

"Jay, we're good," Nate soothed. "We're good."

"I got to go," Jay declared. "Good luck."

Eddie turned to Nate as Jay strutted off. "Control your boy," he said lowly.

Nate bristled. "The fuck did you just say to me?"

"Oh, okay, alright, tough guy," Mac dismissed, giving Nate a little push towards his brother. "Those guys, huh?" he joked. "Mac Sullivan, heavyweight. I think you run a top-notch promotion."

"I appreciate that, thank you," Eddie said briskly, already moving on to the next crisis.

"I'd love to be a part of it, okay? That's Mac Sullivan. S-U-L-L-"

"I-V-A-N, I got it," Eddie told him. "I know how to spell Sullivan."

"Alright!" Mac said happily. He followed Nate and Jay away, and Eddie shook his head. Fucking Navy street fighters.

Christina dolled herself up, taking extra time on her makeup and putting actual hot rollers in her hair. She put on her fanciest dress and her thinnest stilettos before heading out to the nicest hotel in the immediate area.

There she found a businessman who was wearing a wedding ring. All it took was a little bit of charm before he was sliding her his room key. She took it and disappeared upstairs.

Ryan managed to pull a victory even though his fight was slower and even worse than the last one. And even though Jay's fight with Hassan fell through, he had managed to get himself into another fight – this one unsanctioned.

"What happened to your faces?" Christina asked as Nate and Jay walked through the door.

"Yeah, Jay," Nate snarked. "What happened to our faces?" He stalked into the kitchen as Jay crashed onto the couch next to their mother.

"I was provoked," Jay explained dismissively. "Nate, can you make Daddy a drink, please?"

Nate flipped him off over his shoulder as he walked away.

"Well, I guess you got your fight," Christina mused.

Jay chuckled. "Yeah." He sighed. "How was your night?"

"It was nice. I meditated," she lied. "I'll make you a drink," she whispered conspiratorially.

"Get some sleep, Nate. We got a big day tomorrow!" Jay called as Nate disappeared into his room.

"What's tomorrow?" Christina inquired.

Jay blinked at her, surprised and a little upset that she didn't know. "Oh, uh. He turns 22."

"Oh! I'd forgotten."

"It's been a busy week," Jay muttered, trying to make an excuse for her.

"Mm. What kind of drink do you want?"

"I would like some rum, please."

"Coming right up."

"Thank you."

He tried not to remember how she'd forgotten Zoey's birthday as well as his own. She was here, and she was clean, and she loved him. And that was all that mattered... Right?