Chapter 5

By the time sunlight slipped through the curtains, I'd already run through my project pitch three times in my head. When Mom woke up, I helped her get ready and made her breakfast, my movements brisk and businesslike. I kept my feelings out of it.

Right at eight, Dariel showed up at the door, yawning. "Hey, Anabel, I'm here."

His suit was wrinkled, and he smelled like he'd spent the night at a bar.

I frowned. "Did you drink last night? How are you supposed to take care of Mom like this?"

"Just had a couple," he said, waving me off impatiently. "Go on, get out of here. Stop nagging."

But Mom looked at him with concern. "Dariel, don't push yourself too hard with all those work dinners..."

I jotted down the care instructions on a sticky note and stuck it by her bed. Before I left, I snapped a photo of Dariel looking hungover and Mom doting on him, then saved it to my phone's encrypted album.

Wednesday's project presentation went surprisingly well. Callum was a tall, lanky guy in his early forties, with sharp, hawk-like eyes.

When I shared my fresh take on Sylvia's tax regulations, he tapped his fingers on the table three times, his way of showing he liked it.

"Miss Contreras," he said as the meeting wrapped up, "you seem to have a deeper understanding of this project than most."

My heart sped up. "I've worked on something like this before."

"The project team officially starts next Monday, and I want to see your name on the list," he said, standing up.

Then, out of nowhere, he asked, "I heard you have a family member who's sick?"

I kept my smile steady. "We've got a system for taking turns, so it won't mess with my job."

As soon as I stepped out of the meeting room, my phone started buzzing.

In the family WhatsApp group, Coraline was blowing up my notifications with voice messages: [Anabel, what did you say to Dariel? Now he wants to hire a caregiver! Mom's so pissed her blood pressure's spiking!]

I shot back, "Mom's not just my responsibility. She's all of ours. If Dariel can't handle it, we can switch things up, but I can't be the only one always taking the hit."

Coraline called me instantly. "Do you even get it? Dariel just started his job. If he takes time off now, it could totally screw up his career!"

"And what about mine?" I replied, keeping my voice steady as I hit record. "Coraline, you always say Mom dotes on me, but does she really? She skipped my high school graduation because Dariel had a fever. When I won a college scholarship, she just said, 'Girls don't need all that schooling...'"

Coraline went quiet for a few seconds. Then her voice softened. "Anabel, you've changed. Is work getting to you? Maybe... I can help out and look after Mom for a few days?"

I was instantly on guard. She'd played this game in my previous life, too. First she'd act all sweet and caring, then turn around and claim she'd already helped, just to guilt-trip me into paying her back twice as much.

"No need. We'll stick to the schedule," I said, cutting the call. I logged the whole conversation in my stash of receipts.

On Friday night, after my shift, I got home and saw that Kelvin had added me on WhatsApp. His message was simple and direct: [Heard your mom's in the hospital. Need any help?]

I stared at the screen, and memories of our breakup in my last life hit me all over again. Back then, Kelvin had said, ''I can't spend my whole life coming in second,'' and now, I was finally learning to put myself first.

"Thanks, but I've already got things sorted," I replied, then shut off my phone.

The day Mom was discharged, the sun outside was scorching, almost painful to look at. The doctor went over all the aftercare instructions again, and I made sure to write everything down, even though I'd memorized it all in my last life.

"She'll need regular physical therapy, and it's best if someone's around to help with her meals and daily routine," the doctor said, adjusting his glasses as his gaze moved between the three of us. "She can't live alone for at least three months."

Coraline jumped in right away. "Don't worry, we'll get someone in to help." She turned to me and Dariel. "We'll split the cost three ways, sound good?"

I closed my notebook. "Getting a caregiver is fine, but we need to set up a clear rotation and keep an eye on things. Mom's at risk of falling, and no caregiver can be on duty around the clock."

Dariel kept his eyes on his phone, mumbling, "Whatever you guys decide is fine by me. I just started working, so I really don't have any money..."

"Dariel's right," Mom cut in, looking at him with concern. "He just started his job and his pay is low. Coraline's got young kids and lots of expenses. Anabel, you earn the most, so you should chip in more for the caregiver."

I gripped my pen tightly. This was exactly how it always went in my last life. Every extra expense always got dumped on me, like it was my job. I took a deep breath and pulled out a printed copy of the Senior Care Act from my bag.

"The law says we all share equal responsibility for Mom's care," I said, flipping to the marked section. "If Dariel really can't afford it, he can pay less, but he'll need to show proof of his income and bank records."

The room went dead silent. Dariel's face turned bright red. "Anabel! What are you trying to say?"

"What I mean is," I said, meeting his gaze calmly, "we're all adults here, and we need to be clear about our responsibilities. I'm willing to do more, but don't just assume it's my job."

Mom slammed her hand on the edge of the bed. "Anabel! Is it all about money to you? Was raising you all these years for nothing?"