No More Lucky Star novel Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Lane Talia some relief.

After that conversation. Trevor stopped showing up at Isabella’s preschool, which gave

But then he moved into the neighborhood and started coming by her house five or six times a day,

Talla never once let him inside. The most she’d allow was for him to stand outside her door like some pathetic stalker.

There were many times that she and Isabella would be having a perfectly normal evening at home–playing games, watching movies, just enjoying themselves–and then Talia would glance up to see Trevor standing outside like a lost puppy.

He rarely spoke. Never tried to force his way in. Just… stood there. For hours sometimes.

It was clearly some kind of psychological warfare–trying to wear her down through sheer persistence.

But he was dead wrong.

She wasn’t the same pushover she’d been five years ago

Even when it was pouring rain and lightning, even when Trevor was standing there soaked to the bone, Talia wouldn’t give him so much as a second glance.

The only time he got any closer was on Isabella’s birthday. He crouched down by the door, slid a wrapped box inside, and said softly, “Happy birthday, Isabella.”

Isabella looked at the gift, then up at her mom. Only after Talia nodded did she run over to get it

Thank you,” Isabella said quietly.

Thank you,” Isabella whispered politely.

Then it was back to the birthday routine wishes, candles, cake.

When they were cutting slices, Isabella whispered in Talla’s ear. “Mommy, my teacher says birthday cake is supposed to be shared with everyone. Should I give some to that sad man outside? He looks really lonely.”

Talia was quiet for a moment, then nodded. “If you want to.”

So Isabella climbed down from the couch, carefully cut a piece of cake, and carried it over to Trevor.

This is for you. It’s really yummy.”

Trevor looked genuinely shocked. He took the plate and looked up at Talia with something like hope in his eyes.

“Is this Talia?”

A woman’s voice, unfamiliar,

“Yeah”

“Mom’s in the hospital. She’s… she’s really sick. The doctors don’t think she has much time left. She keeps asking for you. Could you… could you conse see her? just once?”

This “mom” wasn’t Talia’s real mother–it was the woman who’d fostered her for a few years. She hadn’t exactly been Mother Teresa. More yelling than hugging, more criticism than comfort. But she’d kept a roof over Talia’s head and food on the table.

Over the years, Talia had sent them millions of dollars. She figured that more than covered whatever she owed them..

She really didn’t want to see any of them again.

But something about a deathbed request made her pause.

“TI think about it,” she said finally, and hung up.

Maybe just time to close that chapter for good.