Lanelle's favorite part of the day was arriving at work and checking on her patients.
Every morning felt like stepping into a room full of grandparents she had somehow collected throughout life. There were always good mornings waiting for her. Smiles. Blessings. Stories she had already heard ten times but listened to anyway.
Patients loved her.
And honestly, she loved them right back.
Her personality stood out in the nursing home. While many caregivers moved mechanically from room to room, tired and detached, Lanelle carried warmth everywhere she went. She laughed loudly, spoke gently, and somehow made even routine tasks feel personal.
"Good morning, Teddy," Lanelle greeted as she entered one of the rooms and pulled the curtains open.
Sunlight flooded the space immediately.
Teddy squinted at the brightness.
He was ninety years old and once famous for being a film director back in his prime. Age had taken many things from him—sometimes his memory, sometimes his sense of time—but strangely, he never seemed to forget his late wife.
Her framed photograph sat beside his bed like a sacred artifact. Every single day.
"Last night," Teddy said slowly, "I dreamt of my wife."
A smile spread across his wrinkled face as he stared at the ceiling, replaying the dream privately in his head.
Lanelle smiled too.
"Yeah? What happened in the dream?"
"She said you're a very nice girl."
"Me?" she asked, genuinely surprised. "She really said that?"
"She did." Teddy nodded confidently. "She asked me to tell you to keep being you."
Something inside Lanelle softened instantly. The words were simple, but they touched her far more than expected. She leaned down and kissed Teddy warmly on the forehead before helping him sit upright.
"Well, that just made my day perfect," she admitted softly. "Thank you, Teddy."
"You're welcome, Seri."
Lanelle chuckled quietly.
Of course, Teddy could remember a dream in perfect detail but still forget her actual name. When he was first admitted to the nursing home, she used to correct him constantly. But eventually she gave up.
To Teddy, she was Seri now.
And strangely enough, she had started liking the name.
"We're taking a shower today," she announced while preparing his things. "Are you ready?"
"I guess."
His tone contained absolutely no enthusiasm. Teddy hated showers with the passion of a man being marched toward execution. Only Lanelle could successfully convince him without triggering a dramatic protest.
...
Five hours later.
Lanelle had completed rounds, distributed medications, helped patients bathe, calmed arguments, changed bed sheets, listened to life stories, and walked enough hallways to qualify for a marathon.
The second she finally dropped into a chair at the nurses' station, her entire body nearly celebrated.
"I'm about to order lunch," Yuster announced while stopping beside her desk. "State your order quickly."
Lanelle nearly fell asleep mid-breath.
"I'll just have kiwi juice today."
Yuster stared at her. "That's not lunch."
"It is in my heart."
Yuster snorted. "Alrighty then."
She walked away.
Other nurses occupied the station too, but the atmosphere around Lanelle remained unpleasantly cold.
Their relationships were strained at best. Hostile at worst. Most of them talked behind her back and Lanelle knew it. She had overheard enough whispers in supply closets and break rooms to understand exactly how they felt about her.
They claimed she was "stealing" patients. That patients liked her too much. That old people became strangely attached to her faster than they did to anyone else. Some rumors even suggested she was doing something manipulative to make patients obsessed with her.
At first, the gossip hurt deeply. Because Lanelle genuinely loved her work. There was nothing calculated about her kindness. Nothing fake. But after enough whispers, enough side-eyes, enough conversations that abruptly stopped when she entered the room—Something inside her hardened.
Now she ignored it all. Her heart had become like stone whenever rumors involved her name. If people wanted to hate her for being good at her job, then so be it. At the end of the day, patients still smiled when they saw her.
And honestly?
That mattered more.
...
Lanelle had been dozing for almost ten minutes when her nose caught a very familiar scent. Something warm and expensive.
Her eyes opened slowly.
At first, her vision was blurry. A figure stood in front of the nurses' station, tall and unmoving. Then the haze faded, and her sight sharpened.
Tevyn.
Sleep immediately abandoned her system like it had never existed.
"Tevyn, hi," she greeted quickly, trying not to look embarrassed about nearly drooling in her sleep.
Tevyn chuckled softly.
"Tough day?"
"You have no idea." Lanelle straightened in her chair. "Teddy's in the garden, by the way."
"Can you escort me?"
"Sure."
She got to her feet and began walking beside him toward the garden.
Tevyn was thirty-nine years old and worked as an architect in the city. He wasn't one of those overwhelmingly handsome men people described as dreamy at first glance. But there was something dangerously comforting about him.
His build was average, his style simple but expensive, and his smile had a warmth that immediately lowered people's defenses. But his eyes—
God.
His eyes were the real problem. The kind someone could accidentally get lost in. And his scent never helped either. It always smelled expensive. Masculine without trying too hard.
Lanelle secretly hated how easily she recognized it now.
"How's work?" she asked casually. "How's the family? How're you?"
Tevyn slipped both hands into his pockets while walking.
"Let's see… work is fine. My family…" He smiled faintly. "Not so much."
Lanelle glanced at him briefly.
"And me?" he continued. "I'm happy to be here."
Something about the way he said it made her chest tighten.
"Same questions to you," he added. "Go."
"Work is—" she gestured toward the nurses' station behind them, "—as witnessed a few minutes ago, going fabulously."
Tevyn laughed.
"My family is loud as usual," she continued, "and I'm also happy to be here."
Tevyn smiled again. That smile really needed regulation laws.
There was one rumor circulating around the nursing home that happened to be true. Something was going on between Lanelle and Tevyn. Nobody had proof. Neither of them would ever admit it.
But it existed.
In the lingering eye contact. In the way Tevyn always somehow found reasons to visit more often than necessary. In the way Lanelle suddenly remembered how to breathe incorrectly whenever he stood too close.
The problem was simple: Relationships between nurses and patients' family members were forbidden. And Tevyn was married. Another forbidden apple hanging quietly in the garden of Eden.
Still, Lanelle had stopped fighting whatever this was.
She had tried distracting herself with other men before. But every single attempt failed miserably. So eventually, she decided to let fate do whatever it wanted. She never flirted with him. Never crossed lines intentionally. Never openly showed him how deeply she had fallen.
Whenever Tevyn was around, she buried that part of herself somewhere deep and pretended she was stronger than she actually was.
Or at least she thought she did.
Because honestly?
Acting unaffected around him was becoming exhausting.
...
Eris stood outside her new home. And never stopped staring.
It was smaller than the apartment she had left behind in the city. So much smaller. But strangely, she didn't hate it. She inhaled deeply with her eyes closed, holding the breath in her lungs before slowly exhaling.
New beginnings. That was the point of this move. She was tired of the city. Tired of being recognized everywhere she went. Tired of outdoor plans turning into public humiliation the second somebody realized who she was. Former fans had become the cruelest people of all. She had endured enough.
The movers carried boxes inside while Eris remained standing outside, quietly observing the street.
People walked past her and nobody stared, whispered, or secretly raised their phones. Nobody cared. For the first time in what felt like forever—She felt peaceful.
Another truck pulled up in front of the building and Deb climbed out. The truck bed was finally empty now that deliveries were over for the day.
The second she spotted Eris, her face brightened immediately. But as she approached, the smell of fish reached Eris first. A strong one. Fresh seafood. Saltwater. Work.
Eris's facial expression shifted instinctively before she could stop herself. Deb noticed immediately and halted mid-step. Of course, she knew she smelled like fish.
"Hi," Deb greeted with a smile anyway. "I'm Deborah, but everyone calls me Deb. I'm your landlady. We've only spoken on the phone before."
"Hi. I'm Eris."
Eris offered a polite smile.
"When I came for the tour," she added, "you weren't there—"
"Yeah, I asked someone else to help that day." Deb rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly. "Sorry about that. No more confusion now."
"It's all good."
"Well…" Deb laughed lightly while gesturing toward herself. "I'll come greet you officially after I take a shower because right now this situation is a struggle."
That almost made Eris laugh.
"Good idea."
"We still have to go to the town administration office," Deb explained. "You need to officially register as a resident of The Hill. After that, I'll give you a tour—if your legs are still alive by then."
"A tour?"
"Yeah. Around here, we don't encourage too much driving inside town." Deb pointed toward the street. "Mostly bicycles and walking."
"I read that on the website," Eris admitted. "I actually think it's cool."
Deb visibly relaxed.
"Great. Be ready in one hour."
Eris nodded. "You know where to find me."
Deb headed into the building.
Eris remained outside for another moment, quietly watching the peaceful street again.
Then slowly—
She followed inside.
***