The notification came quietly.
No dramatic sound. Just a gentle vibration against the wooden bedside table, the kind that could easily be mistaken for imagination.
Mia almost ignored it.
She was folding clothes, her movements slow, careful, deliberate. The sort of rhythm that kept her thoughts from wandering too far,such rhythm made her pain manageable.
Then the phone vibrated again.
She paused, fingers still gripping the sleeve of a neatly folded blouse, and glanced at the screen.
Salary credited.
She stared.
For a long moment, her mind did not catch up with what her eyes were seeing. She read it once. Then again. Her heart began to beat faster, as if it had been waiting for this exact signal to wake up.
She sat down on the edge of the bed.
The amount was real,she couldn't believe it,she's now an actual earner. The amount was not too exaggerated but it was Just enough, enough to breathe.
Enough to lift something heavy off her chest.
Her lips parted, and a laugh slipped out before she could stop it. Soft. A little shaky. She pressed the phone against her chest like it might anchor the feeling before it floated away.
She opened her banking app, fingers suddenly steadier.
Her mother's account was already saved. She had memorized the numbers long ago.
Mia typed in the amount she wanted to send. She paused briefly, adjusted it slightly upward, then stopped herself.
She didn't send everything, but what she sent was just enough to make her mom heave a sigh of relief,to make Liam have that bright smile he has anytime she buys him pizza
She sent it before doubt could creep in.
Transfer successful.
Her vision blurred.
She wiped her face quickly, embarrassed even though no one was there to see her, and reached for her phone again.
She needed to hear her mother's voice.
"Mia?" her mother answered, surprise coloring her tone. "Is something wrong?"
"No," Mia said quickly, smiling through the tightness in her throat. "Everything's fine. Did you… did you get an alert?"
There was silence.
Then a gasp.
"Mia," her mother said, voice trembling. "What is this money?"
"My salary," Mia replied softly. "I wanted to send something home."
"Oh, my child," her mother breathed. "You didn't have to do this."
"I wanted to," Mia said. "Please. Buy groceries. Get Liam some toys. Something nice."
Her mother laughed through tears. "He's going to lose his mind."
Mia closed her eyes, picturing it. "Tell him I'll bring more when I can."
"You're doing well," her mother said firmly. "No matter what, remember that."
After the call ended, Mia sat still for a long time, letting the feeling settle into her bones.she was super proud of herself.
Later that afternoon, she stopped by a small toy store on her way back from errands. It was tucked between a pharmacy and a laundromat, the kind of place people passed every day without noticing.
She walked the aisles slowly, fingers brushing over boxes and soft plush toys. A red truck caught her eye. Solid. Reliable. Something that would survive being dragged across floors and thrown against walls.
She smiled and picked it up.
At the counter, she hesitated, then added a small stuffed animal. Something gentle. Something that could be hugged.
"umm," she told the cashier when asked. "For my lil nephew."
The cashier smiled knowingly.
The evening air was cooler when Mia stepped back outside, the shopping bag light in her hand but heavy with meaning.
She decided to walk a bit before heading back.
The café near the park was quiet. Not empty. Just calm. She ordered a drink she usually considered unnecessary and sat near the window, letting herself exist without rushing.
She had just lifted the cup to her lips when a familiar voice reached her.
"Didn't think I'd see you again so soon."
Mia looked up.
Grayson stood a few steps away, hands in his pockets, expression relaxed. He looked… ordinary. Like someone who belonged anywhere and nowhere at once.
"Oh," she said, surprised. "Hi."
He smiled. "Mind if I join you?"
She shrugged lightly. "Sure."
He pulled out the chair and sat. For a moment, neither of them spoke.
"So," he said eventually. "You look happier today."
Mia blinked. "Do I?"
"A little," he said. "Something good happen?"
She hesitated, then nodded. "I got paid today."
He chuckled. "That'll do it."
Grayson leaned back slightly in his chair. "This place is better in the evenings," he said. "During the day it feels rushed. Like everyone's just passing through."
Mia nodded. "Yeah. In the evenings people actually sit. During the day they act like the chairs might disappear if they stay too long."
He smiled. "Exactly."
She lifted her cup and took a small sip, then grimaced. "Still bad coffee, though."
He laughed. "I was wondering if it was just me."
"No," she said. "It's definitely bad. Drinkable, but only if you don't think about it too much."
"That's the city's motto," he said. "Good enough if you don't think too hard."
Mia laughed, surprised at herself. "That's painfully accurate."
Y 6b
"Do you ever feel like the city never actually sleeps," Grayson said, glancing toward the window, "it just closes one eye for a few minutes?"
"All the time," Mia replied. "Even at night, there's always something. A siren. A car horn. Someone arguing two streets away."
"Or laughing," he added. "At the worst possible hour."
She smiled. "Especially laughing."
"I grew up somewhere quieter," he said. "When it got dark, it actually got dark. You could hear yourself think."
"Did you like that?" she asked.
He shrugged. "Sometimes. Other times it felt like the silence was watching you."
Mia considered that. "I think I prefer noise. Even when it's annoying. It makes me feel less alone."
He looked at her then, just briefly, like he wanted to say something more but chose not to.
"Do you have a favorite place to walk?" he asked instead.
"There's a small park a few blocks from where I live," she said. "Nothing special. But it has benches that aren't broken, which already makes it better than most."
"That's a luxury," he said seriously.
She smiled. "Exactly. And there's this old man who feeds birds there every morning. Same time. Same bag of crumbs. If he doesn't show up, the birds look offended."
Grayson chuckled. "Routine matters to them too, I guess."
"It matters to people more than we admit," Mia said. "Even when we complain about it."
He nodded. "Especially then."
They talked about parks they liked and parks they avoided. About streets that felt safer than others for no logical reason. About the strange comfort of late-night grocery stores.
"I like walking through them when it's almost closing time," Mia said. "The shelves half empty. The workers tired but calmer. It feels honest."
"That's a strange word for a grocery store," Grayson said.
She shrugged. "Maybe. But no one's pretending anymore at that hour."
He smiled faintly. "I get that."
For a while, they spoke about small things. Things that didn't ask much of them. The kind of conversation that didn't dig, didn't pry.
"How long have you been in the city?" he asked.
"A few weeks," she replied. "Long enough to stop getting lost. Not long enough to feel like I belong."
"That seems to be the sweet spot," he said.
"What about you?"
"Longer," he said. "But I still feel like I'm visiting sometimes."
She tilted her head. "That sounds lonely."
"Sometimes," he admitted. "Other times it feels freeing. Like I can leave whenever I want."
Mia thought about that. "I think I'd like to feel that way someday."
They sat quietly again, watching dusk settle.
"You know," Grayson said after a moment, "days don't always feel like this. Manageable, I mean."
"No," Mia agreed. "They don't."
"But when they do," he continued, "it feels important. Like something aligned properly for once."
She nodded slowly. "Yeah. Like the universe took a breath."
He smiled at that, softer this time.
"Exactly like that."
When the light outside dimmed completely, Mia checked the time and sighed. "I should probably head back."
"Same," he said. "Before the city decides it's done being nice."
They stood, gathering their things.
There was no rush. No awkwardness.
Just two people stepping back into their separate lives, carrying a small, unremarkable moment that somehow felt steady.
Then Grayson asked, almost as an afterthought, "Would you want to do this again sometime?"
Mia considered it.
He wasn't pushy. He wasn't charming in an exhausting way. He was just there.
"Sure," she said. "That's fine."
He smiled. "Can I get your number?"
She hesitated only briefly before reciting it. He typed it in carefully, then handed her his phone so she could save his.
"Grayson," she said, reading the name.
"That's me," he replied.
"Maybe next weekend," he suggested. "If you're free."
"I hope to be," she said. "Next Saturday."
"probably."
They stood, exchanged polite smiles, and went their separate ways.
By the time Mia returned to the mansion, the house was quiet.
Margaret looked up from her tablet as Mia passed.
"You look lighter," she remarked.
"I feel lighter," Mia replied.
That night, lying in bed, Mia scrolled through photos her mother had sent.
Liam holding a new truck.
Liam laughing.
Liam asleep with the stuffed animal tucked under his chin.
She smiled, phone resting against her chest.
She didn't think about anything again.
Tomorrow would come soon enough.
For now, she let herself rest.