Chapter 36: Before I Pressed Send
The Dream House
Book One
Sometimes...
Life doesn't interrupt you.
It waits until you're finally ready...
Then tests whether you really are.
Wednesday afternoon.
The apartment was unusually quiet.
No music.
No television.
Only the soft scratching of graphite across paper.
For the first time in days...
The sketch felt right.
Not because the drawing was better.
Because my mind was finally still.
I placed the pencil down.
Looked toward my phone.
Seven days.
Seven days since I had ignored him.
I unlocked the screen.
Opened our conversation.
His last message still waited patiently.
If I did something, I'd rather apologize than guess.
I read it again.
Then again.
My thumbs hovered above the keyboard.
Finally...
I typed.
I'm sorry...
I stopped.
Deleted it.
Typed again.
Can we talk?
Deleted that too.
I laughed quietly to myself.
"Why is this so hard?"
Across town...
Imani Barbershop buzzed with conversation.
The Wednesday crowd had filled nearly every chair.
Ruth finished another braid.
Sinnad brushed loose hair from the floor.
The front door opened every few minutes.
Busy.
But peaceful.
His phone vibrated in his pocket.
He ignored it.
Another vibration.
Ignored again.
The third vibration came while Ruth was ringing up a customer.
She looked over.
"Your phone's having a panic attack."
He smiled.
"I'll check it later."
"It might be important."
"It'll still be there."
After the customer left, he finally reached into his pocket.
One unread text.
From...
Vanessa.
He sighed.
Ruth noticed immediately.
"Her again?"
He nodded.
"She doesn't quit."
"You gonna answer?"
He looked at the message.
Vanessa:
You can't ignore me forever, Sinnad. I'm not giving up on us.
He locked his phone.
"No."
Ruth folded her arms.
"You know she's going to keep texting."
"I know."
"Block her."
He leaned against the counter.
"I don't like blocking people."
"You also don't like unnecessary stress."
He smiled.
"That's true."
"So?"
He looked at the phone one last time.
Then quietly pressed...
Block Contact.
"There."
Ruth grinned.
"Growth."
He laughed.
"Peace."
Across the city...
I stared at my unfinished message.
One sentence.
That was all it would take.
One sentence.
I took a deep breath.
Typed again.
Can we meet?
This time...
I didn't delete it.
My thumb slowly moved toward Send.
Before it touched the screen...
My phone rang.
Luna.
I answered.
"Hey."
"Maya."
Her voice sounded excited.
"You need to come to the city archives."
"What?"
"I found something."
"What?"
"It's about 714."
My heart skipped.
"I can't explain it over the phone."
"Luna..."
"You seriously need to see this."
"When?"
She smiled through the phone.
"Now."
I looked at the unsent message.
Then at my sketchbook.
Then toward the old pencil.
I quietly saved the draft.
Locked my phone.
Grabbed my backpack.
"I'm on my way."
Inside the city archives...
Luna stood beside an old wooden table covered with newspaper clippings.
Books.
Property maps.
City records.
She looked like she'd been there for hours.
"You found something?"
She nodded.
Without saying a word...
She slid a thick archive folder across the table.
The tab read:
714 WELLINGTON STREET
My heartbeat quickened.
I opened it slowly.
The very first page was a list of volunteers.
Names.
Addresses.
Dates.
Nothing unusual.
Until...
Halfway down the page...
One name made me freeze.
Not Grace.
Not Samuel.
Not Miss Carmen.
A different name.
One I had never heard before.
But somehow...
It felt strangely familiar.
I whispered it aloud.
"...Wayanda?"
Luna looked up immediately.
"What?"
I stared at the page.
"No..."
I shook my head.
"That can't be right."
The room suddenly felt much smaller.
Much quieter.
Because for the very first time...
The Dream House no longer felt like someone else's story.
It felt...
Personal.