Ohio was quiet in the morning.
Too quiet.
Mia stood by the kitchen window, her fingers wrapped around a chipped white mug that had once belonged to her grandmother. The coffee inside had gone cold, but she hadn't noticed. Her eyes were fixed on the driveway.
The empty driveway.
Her father's truck used to be there every morning at 6:30 a.m. sharp.
Not anymore.
The sound of hospital machines still echoed in her head even though she wasn't there. The memory of white walls. The smell of disinfectant. The doctor's serious face.
"The injuries are severe. Recovery will take time."
Time.
Time didn't pay bills.
Behind her, the house felt heavier than usual. The air carried something unspoken. Fear. Pressure. Uncertainty.
Her mother, Lauren, was at the dining table with a stack of unpaid bills spread in front of her. The papers looked endless.
Max and Maverick were arguing softly in the living room over a video game controller, unaware of how fragile everything had become.
Mia closed her eyes.
She had graduated a year ago. Twenty-two when she walked across the stage with her degree. Twenty-three now. And still no job.
She had sent applications. Dozens. Maybe hundreds.
Nothing.
And now this.
Her father, Cole, had always been the strong one. The provider. The steady voice. The man who fixed broken sinks and made terrible dad jokes at dinner.
Now he was lying in a hospital bed, unable to stand.
And for the first time in her life, Mia felt truly powerless.
"Mia."
Her mother's voice was soft but firm.
Mia turned slowly.
Lauren didn't look like herself anymore. Dark circles under her eyes. Tired posture. Shoulders carrying too much.
"We need to talk."
Mia already knew what this was about.
She walked to the table and sat down.
Her mother slid one of the bills forward. Electricity. Overdue.
"We can't keep doing this," Lauren said quietly. "Your father's insurance won't cover everything. The savings are almost gone."
Mia swallowed.
"I know."
Silence filled the room again.
Then Lauren looked at her daughter with something that wasn't anger… but necessity.
"You need to find work. Anywhere. Even if it's not here."
The words hit harder than expected.
"Anywhere?" Mia asked softly.
Lauren nodded.
"You're talented. You're smart. But this town… it's not giving you opportunities. Maybe it's time you try somewhere bigger."
Bigger.
The word felt terrifying.
"You want me to leave?" Mia whispered.
"I want you to survive," her mother replied.
That hurt more.
Max's laughter echoed from the living room.
Mia's chest tightened.
She thought about her brothers. About their school supplies. About groceries. About hospital payments.
About the fact that she was the oldest.
Responsibility didn't ask if you were ready.
It just arrived.
That night, Mia couldn't sleep.
She lay in her childhood bedroom staring at the ceiling, the glow-in-the-dark stars she stuck there at sixteen still faintly visible.
Ohio felt small now.
Not in a bad way.
But small in opportunity.
She grabbed her phone and opened her email.
Another rejection.
She almost laughed.
Then a message from Layla popped into her mind.
Layla.
Her best friend from college. The one who moved to Los Angeles immediately after graduation. The one who always said:
"You're too big for Ohio."
Mia hesitated.
Los Angeles was expensive. Fast. Unpredictable.
But it was opportunity.
She opened her contacts and pressed call.
It rang twice.
"Mia? Girl, are you okay?" Layla's voice was bright even through the speaker.
Mia's throat tightened.
"Layla… I need help."
—
Two weeks later, Mia stood at the bus station with one suitcase and a heart full of fear.
Her mother hugged her tightly.
"Life doesn't always happen the way you want," Lauren whispered. "But sometimes it happens the way you need."
Mia nodded against her shoulder.
Max handed her a folded drawing.
Maverick tried not to cry.
And when the bus doors opened, Mia stepped forward into a future she didn't understand.
She didn't know that Los Angeles would change her.
She didn't know that one night would rewrite everything.
And she definitely didn't know that somewhere in that massive city… a man named Roman was about to meet the one person he would never be able to forget.
—
The city lights of Los Angeles stretched endlessly when she arrived.
Cars moved fast.
People moved faster.
Layla was waiting outside the station, sunglasses on even though it was evening.
"Mia!" she screamed, running forward.
For the first time in weeks, Mia smiled.
"Welcome to L.A., baby," Layla grinned. "Your life is about to get interesting."
Mia didn't know how right she was.
Because somewhere across the city, inside a high-rise office with floor-to-ceiling windows, Roman stood staring at the skyline.
Cold.
Controlled.
Untouchable.
He didn't believe in fate.
He didn't believe in love.
And he definitely didn't believe in addiction.
Not yet.