Harper tried to hide her feet from view, even though they were numb, red, and raw from the icy ground beneath her. The falling snow thickened and blurred the streetlights into soft glowing halos while she whispered to herself that tomorrow might be better, even though she had been repeating that hope for weeks without proof.
Her thoughts drifted back to the decisions that led her here, each one small but heavy enough to shape her life. A year earlier she had a modest apartment and a steady job at a bookstore in Boulder, a simple life that felt stable even if it was never exciting.
Everything changed when her mother became ill, and hospital bills began piling up faster than she could manage. Harper emptied her savings without hesitation, choosing love over security, and when her mother passed away she was left with nothing but grief and debt.
The wind cut through her again, and she shivered violently while pulling her sweater closer. That was when a small voice broke through her thoughts and said softly, “Are you cold?”