Chapter 11

I sat at the table, still trying to wrap my head around everything that happened last night. My boss has a copy of my novel between the dream with Chris and the bombshell. My nerves are entirely shot. Mom and Dad haven't tried asking if anything was wrong; they know too well that when I'm like this, to leave me alone until my brain has returned from its orbit in space. The last time I was like this was when I was told I was a salutatorian. I didn't know my grades were high enough to be in the top ten, let alone second in my class.

My body felt heavy, and the day felt like it was flying by. I'd stare at the computer screen, not sure if I should continue editing my book or if I should leave it as is. Mom came in, sat a glass of wine on my desk, and asked, "What's wrong, Sophia?" I looked at the glass, then at her. I'm not sure if it was the stress of everything or the fact that I have the best mother in the world, but the tears poured from my eyes as I clung to her. Mom stroked my ha