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Adeline

Adeline Fischer coughed, waving a hand in front of the smoke detector. Not today, she pleaded to the silent device hanging from the ceiling. The air itself felt thick with the weight of her blunders, each inhale a bitter reminder.

She flung open the window, the cool morning air a balm against the internal fire raging within her. She scraped the burned toast and pancakes into the bin, the metallic clang echoing the hollowness in her chest. She ruined her sister's favorite breakfast. Another promise broken, another opportunity to make amends squandered.

The crumbs clung to her fingers like tiny accusations, a constant reminder of her carelessness. She peered into the windowpane and saw her worn-out reflection. Had she always looked this defeated? This… broken?No.

At twenty-six, burning meals felt less like an accident and more like a metaphor for her entire existence. She stared at her mess, knowing her sister would never forget it. The fire alarm's loud shriek wouldn't become her theme song. With a renewed determination, Adeline wiped down the counter, grabbing a fresh bowl.

"Time to turn these ashes into something edible," she muttered.

Images of Hazel's disappointed face fueled her. Adeline used pancakes as a symbol of peace. Why did I steal the stupid dress?

The thought was a dull throb, a familiar ache in her chest. Six weeks. Six weeks of unpaid time she could have desperately used for working double shifts at Chicken Nuts, time that now belonged to the town she yearned to run from.

Apologies formed the basis. She'd become a better sister, a better cook─that was the goal. The apology was a start, even if it meant saying humble things along the way.

"Smells like your life decisions," a voice drawled from behind her.

Adeline cursed under her breath, the half-toasted bread clattering against the metal as she dropped it with a sharp clink. Hazel stood at the doorway, looking sympathetic and exasperated. In her hands, a stack of golden pancakes teetered on a plate, threatening to spill. Adeline continued to jab the toaster with her clumsy fingers, wiping away a stray strand of her short, brown hair from her forehead.

Hazel pushed herself off the doorframe, the sweet scent of maple syrup preceding her as she approached the counter. She took a slow, deliberate bite of her pancake, her eyes fixed on Adeline.

Adeline felt her shoulders tighten. The reflection in the stainless-steel toaster seemed to mock her clumsiness.

A sigh ruffled her sister's blonde bangs. The amusement had faded, replaced by a look of weary resignation. "The water bill is due in three days," Hazel announced, setting the plate down, causing the pancakes to wobble a little.

Adeline flinched, her eyes drawn to the opened mail next to the refrigerator, aware that the pile contained unpaid bills. "I know, I know," she said, her voice laced with regret. "I told you, I'll work double shifts once I'm done with my community service." Her gray eyes met Hazel's blue ones across the kitchen, a silent plea for understanding.

"Yeah, well, I'm looking forward to that time," Hazel retorted, her voice edged with frustration. "Perhaps that way, I can reclaim my life."

"What the hell are you talking about, Haz?" Adeline felt a prickle of defensiveness, a knot forming in her stomach.

"I'm talking about working additional hours in the county clerk's office to keep our power and water!" Hazel exclaimed, her voice growing louder. "I haven't had a decent night out with my friends in weeks since I'm either worried with managing our money or exhausted from the same routine. It's not just your consequence, Addy. Was the dress at Chic Boutique that enticing?"

"Well, yes, Hazel. It was a beautiful red dress with sequins along the top. I needed it."

"Needed it for what? Sitting on the couch watching reality TV? We live in Havenwood. The most exciting event is Wednesday Night Bingo at the rec center." Her sister sighed, the humor fading from her expression. "Look, I get it; you wanted something nice. But stealing it? Now we're both paying for it. Your paycheck is already shrunk because of this community service, and you know mine doesn't cover my own bills, let alone picking up the slack for the water."

Adeline's shoulders slumped as she exhaled, the air thick with regret. Her gaze fixed on the toaster, the coils glowing orange, mirroring the heat of her shame as the bread crisped.

Was this my life now? Stuck here, fighting with my sister over bills, all because of a dress? 

She wanted to tell Hazel she understood, that she hated this too, but the words felt stuck. The metallic pop echoed, a jarring sound that silenced the early morning birds.

Adeline, perched on the edge of her stool, extended a hand, her fingers trembling. Not even a grip; the tips of her fingers just touched the warm metal of the toaster. She recoiled, then exhaled a shaky breath. This time, all went smoothly. A uniform golden brown cloaked the bread, a small square of triumph amidst a chaotic morning.

"Yay," Hazel said, her voice light and genuine.

Adeline glanced over, catching the warmth in her sister's eyes. The sense of relief was unmistakable. But the moment dissolved as Hazel's gaze darted to her phone. The brightness in her expression dimmed, giving way to a concentrated intensity.

"You have five minutes to get to the Havenwood Community Center, sis," she announced, her voice clipped and efficient; the previous warmth vanished. "Chop, chop!"

Adeline moaned, the reality of the morning crashing back in. Get out, get out, get out. Not just the kitchen, but the town, the situation. She checked the burners on the stove and ensured the coffee maker was off, her mind already racing ahead.

"Okay, okay, I'm going." She rushed to her bedroom to change out of her pink jammies and into something suitable for manual labor.

The door clicked shut behind her, cutting off the heavy, stagnant air of the Missouri apartment she shared with her sister. Adeline inhaled; the cool bite of air shocked her lungs. Pine needles, sharp and clean, tickled her nose─a smell unlike burned food.

Her sneakers slapped against the uneven pavement of Elm Street, each footfall a burst of contained energy. She rushed by Mrs. Gable's pruned rose bush, its crimson blooms standing strong against the chill, and then continued past the Foster's porch swing, its peeling blue paint a reminder of countless summers spent swaying in the sun.

Havenwood. Unwavering. Unchanging.

Her breath plumed in the air as she pressed on, the familiar landscape a blur of motion. The pounding of her heart echoed the rhythm of her feet, a frantic drumbeat urging her forward, away from the stillness and toward the unknown.

Why did I ever think I could make it work coming back here? 

Each step deepened the sense of entrapment, the community center a representation of her struggle to escape. Just six weeks. Just six weeks. She repeated it as if it were a mantra, with the hope that it would shorten the time and lessen her feelings of shame.

Adeline rounded the corner onto Main Street, the small brick building of the community center looming just ahead. She was late. Of course, she was late. Her chest tightened with a fresh wave of anxiety. As she jogged towards the entrance, fumbling with her backpack strap, she almost collided with someone stepping out.

"Hey, watch it!" a sharp voice snapped.

She stumbled backward and almost tripped. Meredith Gallagher loomed above her, a storm brewing in her dark eyes. Choppy, brown hair whipped around the woman's face like a storm-tossed flag. Adeline recognized her right away: the bored lady from orientation with a record of defacing private property. Meredith moved aside, giving Adeline a wide berth, her expression radiating disapproval.

"Sorry. I'm in a rush," Adeline said, the words sounding weak even to her own ears.

A smirk twisted Meredith's lips. "Clearly. Perhaps try showing up on time, Sticky Fingers."

Heat flushed Adeline's cheeks. "Oh, and you're so perfect? Vandalism? How sophisticated." The smirk vanished, replaced by a gaze as hard as steel.

"Better than being a thief."

Before she could control herself, Adeline yelled out, "It's easy for you to judge when you're not counting every penny!"

Meredith gazed at her for an extended, quiet moment, a fleeting expression of something enigmatic crossing her features. Then, without another word, she spun on her heel and stalked away.

Great. Just what I needed. An enemy to challenge me.

Adeline's jaw ached from the forced upturn of her lips, a fragile mask she hoped wouldn't crack. She pushed open the heavy door, the scent of old dust and disappointment hitting her like a physical blow. The cavernous center swallowed her whole. Above, fluorescent tubes hummed a discordant tune, their harsh light leaching the color from the worn linoleum. Faded and peeling, posters advertised long-forgotten events.

Paperwork piled high, a woman's head popped up, her nametag reading "Doris."

"You must be Adeline," the woman's voice cut through the sterilized air with a gentle quality. "We've been expecting you."

Adeline's shoulders loosened a fraction. "Apologies," she said, her voice low. "I had a bit of a… rough start."

A knowing crinkle formed around Doris's eyes. "Happens to the best of us, dear. Mr. Henderson's been waiting in storage; he needs help with the inventory. As ordered by the judge, you'll be in there for six hours today."

The directions Doris gave led Adeline down a narrow corridor, the air growing heavy with each step. A door marked "Storage" stood before her. She hesitated, her fingers clutching the chilly metal handle as she  knocked. Another breath. The door creaked open, revealing a world of shadows and discarded items. 

A slender man with a kind expression and an aura of perpetual wonder held a clipboard as he stood amidst the mayhem.

"Ah, Miss Fischer!" he exclaimed, his voice thin but cheerful. "So glad you could make it. I'm Wesley Henderson. Welcome to the wonderful world of inventory!"

Adeline managed a weak smile. "Thanks, Mr. Henderson. Happy to be here."

Okay, maybe this won't be so bad after all.

His voice, a drone listing off inventory codes and storage protocols, was a far cry from a symphony. However, Adeline found a strange comfort in the monotony. She felt a sense of triumph over the whirlwind of her own thoughts with each printed label she placed into a dusty box.

Every time she made a trained movement with her hand, the constant chorus of worries in her head subsided. For a few seconds, the constant remorse of stealing a dress seemed to fade. The dust motes dancing in the sun, illuminated by the grime-streaked windows, almost resembled hope. Perhaps community service wasn't so bad after all. Maybe there was a connection she could find among the neglected donations; a purpose, however little, that wouldn't lead to furrowed eyebrows and charred toast.

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