(Present Day)

San Francisco, California

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"THIS IS Corey?" Kelly fanned herself with a book as I chatted with her via Video-Chat. "Like, the green-eyed Adonis guy in this picture, is the same Corey from your childhood?"

"Yeah, that's him."

"Well, damn." She smiled and tilted her head to the side. "You mean to tell me that you've been living in his house for the past few weeks and you're still a virgin? I would've jumped him the first night I saw him."

Apparently, I did.

"The first day he was somewhat bearable," I said. "Now he's an asshole. Did I tell you that as of this weekend, he's giving me the silent treatment? He'll only talk to me if it's via text or email."

I glanced at the subject of his latest email which was still on my screen.

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SUBJECT: RULES NUMBER 5, 6, & 7 (effective immediately)

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"ANYWAY," I SAID, LOOKING at her face on the screen again. "When are you getting here? I get my new sleep medication this week, and I'm beyond ready to have a real roommate."

She gave me her "I have bad news look" and a forced smile.  "Okay, Hales. Don't hate me but—"

"But what?"

"I may not be coming until months from now."

"What? Why?"

"Because I went to a Wall Street benefit dinner with my brother yesterday, and you'll never believe who I met!"

"Someone who is willing to give us another huge loan?"

"Ha!" She laughed. "Never. It was Arizona Turner! The owner of all those Ari & Carter cafes that are in every beach town! I told her about our wine and coffee bar, and she offered to let me shadow her for a couple of months. So, I'm thinking, you can keep learning real-world organization and day to day business dealing, and I can learn cafe management from one of the best. Then I can come to San Fran, earn money for a year or so, and we can start our cafe dreams all over. What do you say?"

"Have I ever told you I hate your never-ending optimism?" I wiped a few happy tears away. "This is the best news I've heard this week I'm happy for you."

"For us, Hales." She touched the screen and pretended to help me wipe my tears. "I think we'll get it right the second time. Are you going to ask your brother to look at our old business plan to see where we went wrong?"

"If I ever see him for longer than five minutes at a time," I said. I started to tell her that my brother's hectic schedule and his company were wearing me thinner by the day, but my door opened.

"You need to read these by Friday, Miss Smith." Angela set a stack of files on my desk. "You also need to make sure that you've looked over the tax proposal that the city of Memphis is offering the company for our future Southern operations. Well, after you've read the proposals from Dallas, Ft. Lauderdale, and Little Rock. Oh, and speaking of which..."

She continued talking a mile a minute—adding task after task, and Kelly shook her head onscreen in sympathy.

"Did you get all that, Miss Smith?" Angela smiled, setting one last file on my stack.

"I think so."

"Great!" She walked to the door. "Don't forget the Cybersecurity Department needs their budget sheet by the end of the day. No exceptions."

She left the room, and the door opened as soon as she closed it. An intern avoided my gaze as he set a bouquet of beautiful white roses on my desk, but then he pulled a file from under his arm.

"No." I pointed to the door. "Don't you dare put any more work on my desk."

"But—"

"Bring it to me next week. Not now."

His face paled, and he looked back and forth. Then he dropped it onto my desk anyway and rushed out of the room. 

"Okay, I take back what I said." Kelly smiled. "I think I'll join you at Statham Industries years from now instead of months from now."

"You better be kidding."

"I am." She winked. "I'll call you tonight. Don't forget to update your brother about the changes."

"I won't." I ended the call and stared at the beautiful white flowers in awe.

Maybe Corey is finally apologizing for being an ass?

I pulled the tiny red envelope from the stems and opened it, expecting to see an 'I'm sorry,' but it wasn't there. It was a note from the last person I wanted to forgive.

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Hayley,

I love you, and I'm sorry for all the pain I've caused you.

(Whether you choose to believe it or not)

Can I talk to you now that you're living in San Fran?

Even if it's just for five minutes.

Your mother,

Denise Statham

(Or, as you used to address me in your letters, Inmate #W098287)

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I STARED AT THE LAST line of her note in utter disbelief. Out of the one hundred and seventy-six letters I'd mailed her when she was sent away, she'd never written back once. And the few times that my first foster family let me visit her in prison, she acted as if she was more interested in hearing about Jonathan and what he was doing than me.

I counted the number of blooms in the flower bouquet and found it quite fitting that it was the number of birthdays she'd missed. And perhaps the random red tulip in the middle stood for the time she left me in our filthy trailer home on Christmas Eve with the promise to come back with "Lots of gifts, Hales! So, we can finally have a real Christmas!" Maybe that flower stood for the fact that she didn't come back to the trailer until long after New Year's Day, empty-handed.

I don't think so, Inmate #W098287. We can't ever talk...

I opened my drawer and took out a pair of scissors, snipping the bloom off each flower and tossing the fake love into the trash.