she went to pay for it and the cashier said you can’t buy that dog food we need evidence that you have a dog, so she bought in her dog and she got the dog food.

The next day the same old lady went to get some cat food and the cashier said you can’t have that cat food we need evidence that you have a cat, so she went home and got her cat and she got the cat food.

Next day the same old lady went in again and she had a box, she told the cashier to put her finger in it, so she did.

She said it felt warm and soft, the little old lady then said now you’re satisfied can I have some toilet paper please!

My three year old son had a lot of problems with potty training; and I was on him constantly.

One day we stopped at Taco Bell for a quick lunch in between errands. It was very busy, with a full dining room.

While enjoying my taco, I smelled something funny, so of course, I checked my seven month old daughter, and she was clean. The I realized that Matt had not asked to go potty in a while, so I asked him and he said, “No.”

I kept thinking, “Oh Lord, that child has had an accident and I didn’t have any clothes with me.” Then I said, “Matt, are you sure you did not have an accident?”

“No,” he replied.

I just knew that he must have, because the smell was getting worse. Sooooo…. I asked one more time, “Matt, did you have an accident?”

Matt jumped up, yanked down his pants, bent over and spread his cheeks and yelled…. “SEE, MOM, IT’S JUST FARTS!!!”

While 100 people nearly choked to death on their tacos, he calmly pulled up his pants and sat down to eat his food as if nothing happened. I was mortified!

Some kind elderly people made me feel a lot better, when they came over and thanked me for the best laugh they had ever had!!!

Another old gentleman stopped us in the parking lot as we were leaving, bent over to my son and said:

“Don’t worry son, my wife accuses me of the same thing all the time… I just never had the nerve to make the point like you did.”

Little Johnny once bought his Granny a very fine toilet brush for her birthday.

But when he went to visit her a few weeks later, there wasn’t a sign of it in the bathroom.

Little Johnny asked his Grandma, “Granny, what happened to the loo brush I gave you?”

“Darling, I really didn’t like it. After all those years, I’ve gotten used to the toilet paper, and this new thing was just far to scratchy.”

The doctor said, “You should start writing things down to help you remember.”

Later that night, the wife said, “Honey, I’d like some ice cream. Could you get me some from the kitchen?”

The husband said, “Of course.”

The wife added, “Write it down so you don’t forget!”

The husband replied, “I don’t need to write it down! You want ice cream.”

She said, “I also want strawberries on top. Write it down!”

The husband rolled his eyes. “I won’t forget!”

She added, “And whipped cream! Please write it down!”

He sighed. “I got it! Ice cream, strawberries, whipped cream. No need to write it down.”

Twenty minutes later, he came back and handed her a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon.

The wife stared at the plate and yelled, “I told you to write it down! Where’s my toast?!”

LOL!!

Hope this joke will make you smile! Have a nice day!!

An older couple was lying in bed one night.

An older couple was lying in bed one night.

The husband was falling asleep but the wife was in a romantic mood and wanted to talk.

She said: “You used to hold my hand when we were c0urting.”

Wearily he reached across, held her hand for a second, and tried to get back to sleep.

A few moments later she said: “Then you used to kiss me.”

Mildly irritated, he reached across, gave her a peck on the cheek, and settled down to sleep.

Thirty seconds later she said: Then you used to bit3 my neck”

Angrily, he threw back the bedclothes and got out of bed.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“To get my teeth!”

“Is this something medical?” I inquired, turning it in my hands. “Or maybe it’s for sewing with the left hand?” We came up with various possibilities, but none of them appeared to fit.

I decided to dig deeper. After some searching, an old forum, and a few old advertising brochures, I discovered that these are instructional children’s scissors. These scissors were designed to help an adult teach a toddler how to cut. The youngster inserts their fingers into one pair of holes, the adult in the other, and they perform the action together.

I was very startled. I’d never heard of this. But the more I considered it, the more I liked the concept. These scissors are more than simply metal and plastic; they represent care, patience, and tenderness.

Perhaps the grandmother provided not just a tool, but also a small bridge between generations, allowing mother and child to take their first steps together, literally “hand in hand.” Now, these unusual scissors hang on my friend’s shelf as a symbol of familial ties. And one day, when her child grows up, they will undoubtedly use them. Together.

Why This Puzzle Is More Than Just Fun
Spot-the-difference puzzles seem simple at first glance, but the deeper you look, the more you realize they mess with your brain in all the best ways. These puzzles are great for improving focus, patience, and your ability to process visual information quickly. The twist? Your brain is wired to overlook minor changes to save time—making you blind to what’s hiding in plain sight.

The Mistakes Everyone Makes While Solving These Puzzles

The most common reason people miss the differences is because they rush. It’s easy to scan each side and say, “Looks the same to me.” But this challenge is built to trick your brain’s lazy filters. Another mistake is focusing only on the central characters or large shapes. The trickiest changes are subtle: an eyelash here, a seam there, a missing shape. That’s where most people go wrong.

Let’s Break It Down Step by Step: The 7 Hidden Differences

Now let’s dig in. You’ve probably stared at the two images already, but now I’m going to walk you through each of the seven changes. Pay close attention—you’ll never miss them again.

1. The Ear That Disappeared
Start at the top right corner. The woman in the tank top has a visible ear in the first image. In the second one, poof—her ear is completely gone. It’s a small detail, but once spotted, it’s impossible to ignore.

2. The Dog-Holding Guy’s Elbow Vanishes
Look at the man standing and holding the dog. In the first image, you’ll see the fold in his sleeve defining his elbow. In the second image, that crease has vanished. It throws off the entire arm’s silhouette and is one of the most commonly missed differences.

3. The Eyelash Addition
Shift your focus to the blonde woman seated in the green chair. In the original image, her face is makeup-free. But in the altered version, she suddenly has one visible eyelash over her right eye. It’s barely noticeable but definitely different.

4. The Missing Center Seam on the Red Shirt
Still looking at the seated woman? Good. Her red shirt has a line running down the center in the first image. In the second image, that seam is gone. It changes the texture of the shirt just enough to throw off detail-oriented viewers.

5. Rick’s Sleeve Loses a Button
Now glance at the far-left character, Rick. He’s got that iconic spiky hair and lab coat. But look closely at his left sleeve in the first image—you’ll see a little button. It’s missing in the second image. Sneaky, right?

6. The Vanishing Chair Leg
Zoom in on the man seated in the green armchair on the right. In the first image, all four chair legs are intact. But in the second image, one of the front legs is completely missing. It’s not something your brain expects to change, which is exactly why it works.

7. The Shirt Collar Gap Trick
Now take a look at his shirt collar. In the first image, it’s perfectly closed. But in the second image, there’s a little gap or notch added in the center. It’s one of those easy-to-miss changes that separates amateurs from puzzle pros.

Here’s a Quick Recap of the Differences You Should Have Spotted

1. Ear missing on the woman in the tank top
2. Missing elbow line on the man holding the dog
3. Eyelash added on the blonde woman
4. Shirt seam gone from the red blouse
5. Missing button on Rick’s white coat
6. One leg missing on the green chair
7. Small notch added to the shirt collar of the seated man
   

Did You Find All Seven?

Be honest—how many did you catch before reading the list? If you got five or more, you’re ahead of the curve. If you nailed all seven on your own, you’ve got the observation skills of a detective. Most people spot only three or four without help, which means you’re already outperforming the average puzzle solver.

Now that you know the tricks, you’re ready to tackle even more complex puzzles. Share this image with your friends or family and see who among them has the sharpest eyes. Make it a game—fastest time wins bragging rights.

So the next time someone says you’re just scrolling through pictures online, you can proudly say you’re training your brain.

Go ahead—spot the differences, beat the clock, and stay sharp. Let the games begin.

“That sounds perfect,” the wife said, smiling as she looked over the menu.
“Yeah,” her husband agreed, “but I don’t want the eggs.”

The waitress paused, her face turning serious. “If you don’t want the eggs, then you’ll have to pay $3.49,” she said flatly. “That’s the à la carte price.”

The couple looked at each other, baffled.

“Wait,” the wife said, raising an eyebrow. “So you’re saying that if he skips the eggs, it’ll cost more than if he orders them?”

“That’s right,” the waitress replied, not budging. “That’s how it works.”

The wife paused for a moment, then smiled cleverly. “Alright, we’ll take the seniors’ special.”

The waitress, now slightly smug, asked, “And how would you like your eggs?”

The wife’s grin widened. “Raw and in the shell, please.”

The waitress blinked, unsure how to respond, but wrote it down and went on with the order. The couple later left the restaurant with the raw eggs in hand. Once home, the wife whipped up a delicious cake with them.

The lesson? Don’t mess with seniors—they’ve been playing the game longer than you have.

But that’s not where the fun ends.

This wise and witty couple also shared a great story from a recent camping trip. Determined to embrace nature, the couple packed up their gear and pitched a tent under the stars for a quiet night in the wilderness.

As the moon rose and the forest hushed, they cozied up in their tent and drifted off to sleep.

A few hours later, the wife nudged her husband awake. “Honey,” she whispered, “look up at the sky and tell me what you see.”

The husband, rubbing his eyes, gazed upward through the open flap of their tent. “I see millions and millions of stars,” he replied.

She asked, “And what does that tell you?”

He thought for a moment, then answered thoughtfully, “Well, astronomically, it tells me there are millions of galaxies and potentially billions of planets. From a philosophical standpoint, it reminds me how small we really are. And meteorologically, it probably means it’s going to be a beautiful day tomorrow.”

The wife chuckled, then said, “No, honey. It means someone stole our tent.”

Moral of the story?
Life’s too short not to laugh—especially when you’ve earned every gray hair on your head. Whether it’s outsmarting a restaurant’s pricing policy or realizing your tent’s gone missing under the stars, a little humor goes a long way.

So if you needed a reason to smile today, hopefully, these stories from a wise, seasoned couple did the trick. Age comes with experience, wit, and the ability to find joy in life’s unexpected moments. And above all—never underestimate the cleverness of seniors. They’ve seen it all… and they’re still winning.

A Hidden Lump, a Heavy Burden
Cheryl, from Glasgow, first discovered the lump at just 15 years old. It was uncomfortable but manageable, and a doctor initially dismissed it, attributing the issue to torn ligaments and recommending physiotherapy. After a fall, that theory seemed to make sense.

As her relationship with her boyfriend David grew, Cheryl chose silence over honesty.

“I was ashamed of it,” she told the Daily Mail. That shame kept her from seeking further help — or telling David the truth.

Love Demanded the Truth
Everything changed when Cheryl and David moved in together. David finally saw the swelling and asked what was going on. She claimed it was just torn ligaments, but he wasn’t convinced.Swollen foot remedies

“He could tell it was more serious,” Cheryl recalled. David urged her to see a doctor — and that push may have saved her life.

A Devastating Diagnosis
Following urgent scans and biopsies, Cheryl received crushing news: the lump was a sarcoma — a rare and aggressive form of cancer.

To stop its spread, doctors recommended an immediate amputation of her lower leg.

“I was hysterical. I felt like I’d been punched in the face twice in one day,” she said.

A Proposal That Meant Everything
Amid the fear and emotional devastation, David never left her side. Just weeks before her life-changing surgery, he proposed. His love gave Cheryl the strength she needed.

“He gave me motivation and the willpower to go on,” she said.

What Is Sarcoma?
Sarcoma is a rare form of cancer that begins in the body’s connective tissues — including muscles, fat, blood vessels, and nerves. While it can occur anywhere in the body, it most often appears in the limbs.

Some types of sarcoma include:

• Osteosarcoma – Bone cancer
• Chondrosarcoma – Cancer in cartilage
• Ewing’s Sarcoma – Typically affects bone marrow

Symptoms vary, but warning signs can include:

• Persistent swelling or lumps
• Chronic pain in one area
• Muscle weakness or reduced mobility
• Noticeable changes in movement or coordination

The Power of Listening to Your Body
Cheryl’s journey serves as a powerful reminder: Don’t ignore your body. If something doesn’t feel right, speak up — even if it’s scary.

“If I hadn’t shown David the lump, I probably would’ve ignored it even longer,” she admitted.

Thanks to her courage — and David’s support — Cheryl got a second chance.

If you or someone you love is in pain or uncertain about a symptom, don’t wait. Seek answers. Insist on them. It could save a life.

Please share Cheryl’s story — it might inspire someone else to seek help before it’s too late.

The Viral Challenge That’s Leaving People Stunned
The image appears innocent enough at first glance — a group of three women sitting in a muddy field with a child in between, calmly observing a tangled cluster of snakes. The scene is almost surreal, given how calm everyone appears in the presence of such intimidating reptiles. But what if we told you the snakes weren’t the real mystery?

There’s a twist that most people miss: there’s a hidden figure in the image — but you can only spot it if you “half-close” your eyes. The illusion becomes clear not through sharper focus, but through blurred perception.

That’s where the real magic lies.

Why Most People Fail at First
The human brain is wired to look for logic, edges, and contrast. So when we look at a busy image like this, we scan for recognizable shapes: faces, limbs, patterns, and shadows. But when everything is blended and camouflaged—like snakes winding over one another, tangled in earthy tones—it becomes hard to separate the illusion from reality.

Common mistakes people make when trying to solve this:

• Focusing too much on the details
• Ignoring the overall composition of the image
• Not adjusting their view (such as squinting or adjusting brightness)
• Overanalyzing individual elements instead of seeing the full picture

This kind of visual trick is designed to override your typical pattern-recognition habits. It forces you to let go of control and trust your intuition, which many people struggle to do.

The Key: Close Your Eyes 70% — But Not Completely
Here’s the fun part. If you stare at the image directly, you’ll likely miss the hidden figure completely. But if you soften your gaze—similar to how you might squint under bright sunlight or when waking up half-asleep—you start to notice something fascinating.

Close your eyes just enough that the details blur but shapes remain.

Suddenly, the twisted snakes and shadows start to rearrange themselves in your mind. At the center of the image, among the coils, emerges a faint but unmistakable silhouette.

Yes. It’s Jesus.

Not in a cartoonish or exaggerated way—but a soft, almost ghost-like image of His face appears in the formation of the snakes’ bodies, the folds in the dirt, and the position of the people around.

Step-by-Step Guide to See the Hidden Figure
Let’s walk through it slowly:

1. Look at the entire image without focusing. Don’t zero in on the people or the snakes.
2. Squint your eyes about 70% closed. You don’t want to shut them completely—just enough to blur the sharper lines.
3. Focus on the center of the snake pile. Notice how the curves and shadows start to resemble eyes, a nose, and facial contours.
4. Soften your vision further if needed. As you keep your gaze relaxed, you’ll start to see a face emerge.
5. Once it clicks, you won’t unsee it. Your brain will lock onto the pattern, and the image of Jesus becomes more distinct every time.

It’s Not Just a Puzzle — It’s a Test of Perception
This illusion isn’t just about spotting Jesus hidden in the image. It’s about how our brains interpret reality—and how easily that reality can shift when we alter our perception. In a way, it’s both a puzzle and a metaphor: sometimes, clarity comes not when we focus harder, but when we soften and let go.

It teaches us to trust our senses in a new way, to look beyond what’s obvious, and to understand that sometimes—you have to blur your vision to see more clearly.

Join the Conversation and Share the Wonder
Now that you know what to look for, it’s your turn! Share the image with friends or family and see if they can find the hidden figure. Ask them what they see first, then guide them through the same process. You’ll be amazed at how different people interpret the same image.

And don’t forget to leave a comment with your thoughts. How long did it take you to spot the face? Did it give you chills? Did you see something different before you saw Jesus?

Final Thoughts: Not Everything Is What It Seems
This illusion is more than just a fun brain teaser. It’s a powerful reminder that what we see isn’t always the full story. Whether it’s in art, life, or even personal relationships, sometimes the truth is hidden beneath layers of distraction.

But when we quiet our minds, soften our gaze, and open ourselves to deeper perception—magic happens.

Try more puzzles like this and keep training your brain. Who knows what else you’ll start seeing that others miss?

Caught right in the middle of the turmoil was Australian journalist Lauren Tomasi — h!t by a ru.bber bullet during the vi.0.lent clashes.

“You just f**king sh.0.t the reporter”

Lauren Tomasi, Nine News’ U.S. correspondent, has been covering the pr0:tests that erupted in response to President Donald Trump’s controversial immigration cr@ckdown.

On Sunday, June 8, dem0:nstrators flooded downtown Los Angeles, with some setting vehicles on fire near the Metropolitan Detention Centre.

The day had began quietly, with relatively small groups pr.0.testing the immigration r@ids, but tensions quickly escalated as crowds sw:elled to thousands by the afternoon.

Reporting live from 257 E Temple Street, Tomasi described how the LAPD was “moving in on horseback, fir!ng ru:bber bull:ets at pr0:testers.” Just moments later, the chaos hit close to home — Tomasi was struck by a ru:bber bull:et.

A bystander’s voice pierced the noise: “You just f**king sh0:t the reporter.”

Tomasi remained calm, responding, “I’m good,” when someone checked if she was alright. Footage released by Nine News appears to show an officer deliberately aiming in her direction before opening f!re. The network later confirmed in a statement:

“Lauren Tomasi was struck by a ru:bber bull:ets. Lauren and her camera operator are safe and will continue their essential work covering these events. This incident serves as a stark reminder of the inherent d@ngers journalists can face while reporting from the frontlines of pr0:tests, undersc0:ring the importance of their role in providing vital information.”

Demands an explanation
Australian Greens senator Sarah Hanson-Young responded swiftly, demanding an explanation from U.S. officials.

“The first thing [Prime Minister Anthony Albanese] must tell the president is to stop sh0:oting at our journalists,” she said. “Freedom of the press is a fundamental pillar of a strong, functioning democracy.”

The pr0:tests, centered around recent immigration r@ids, had already prompted the LAPD to declare an “unlawful assembly” and issue warnings via social media for both the public and press to stay clear of the Civic Center area.

The incident has sparked international outrage and renewed scrutiny on law enforcement’s use of force during civil unr:est. Meanwhile, President Trump reportedly urged the LAPD to “bring in the tr0:ops,” and the National Guard has since been deployed to reinforce overwhelmed police f0:rces.

”Don’t give the administration what it wants”
Trump has described Los Angeles as lawless chaos where Democratic leaders have lost control. Yet, so far, the unrest remains confined to just a few blocks in downtown.

Los Angeles Mayor Karen Bass is urging residents to put an end to the vi0:lence.

“Angelenos — do not take part in vi0:lence and chaos. Don’t give the administration what it wants,” she wrote on X.

Both Mayor Bass and California Governor Gavin Newsom have publicly opposed Trump’s decision to depl0:y the National Guard to Los Angeles.

As the dust settles, one thing remains clear: the frontlines of pr0:test are becoming increasingly dangerous — not just for demonstrators, but for those trying to tell their stories.

What is a Can Strainer (or Can Colander)?
A can strainer or can colander is a small kitchen device designed to fit over or into an open can to drain its liquid content efficiently. This could be water, brine, oil, syrup, or any other preserving liquid that canned goods often contain.

Unlike traditional colanders or strainers, which are usually too large and messy to handle small quantities from cans, can strainers are specifically shaped to match standard can sizes, allowing for quick and spill-free draining.

How Does a Can Strainer Work?
The concept is simple but smart:

1. Open the can as usual, completely removing the lid.
2. Place the can strainer over the open can. Some models fit over the top, while others are designed to insert just inside the rim.
3. Invert the can over the sink or bowl. The holes in the strainer allow the liquid to flow out while keeping the contents safely inside.
4. Remove and discard the liquid, then proceed with your recipe.

This method eliminates the need for transferring contents to a large strainer, minimizes waste, and keeps the food cleaner and more intact.

Common Uses of a Can Strainer
Can strainers are versatile tools that can be used in various culinary situations. Here are the most popular ways they’re used:

1. Draining Canned Tuna or Salmon
These proteins are often packed in oil or water. A can strainer helps remove the excess liquid quickly without making a mess or having your hands smell like fish.

2. Rinsing Canned Beans or Legumes
Beans like chickpeas, kidney beans, or black beans are typically preserved in a salty brine. Draining and rinsing them improves flavor and reduces sodium.

3. Removing Syrup from Canned Fruits
Canned peaches, pears, or pineapples often come in heavy syrup. A can strainer makes it easy to keep just the fruit and discard the sugary liquid.

4. Straining Vegetables
Canned corn, peas, or carrots can be strained with no hassle, avoiding soggy vegetables and ensuring better texture for salads or stir-fries.

Types of Can Strainers
Can strainers come in various styles, materials, and designs. Here are a few common types:

• Over-the-Top Can Strainers
These sit directly on top of the opened can. They are usually circular with small draining holes and are great for one-handed use.

• Insert-Style Can Strainers
These are slightly smaller in diameter and fit inside the can’s opening. They are ideal for holding the food inside even when the can is fully inverted.

• Universal Fit Strainers
Adjustable or flexible models are designed to fit a range of can sizes, which is especially handy if you use both small (5 oz) and large (28 oz) cans.

• BPA-Free Plastic or Silicone Models
Lightweight, dishwasher-safe, and rust-proof, these are popular in modern kitchens.

• Stainless Steel Can Strainers
Durable and long-lasting, stainless steel versions are more resistant to staining and retain their shape over time.

Benefits of Using a Can Strainer
Why should you add a can strainer to your kitchen drawer? Here are several advantages:

Reduces Mess
Avoid the spills that come from trying to tilt a can over a sink or using your hand as a makeshift barrier.

Improves Food Quality
By effectively draining brine, oil, or syrup, you can enhance the flavor and texture of canned goods.

Saves Time
With one simple motion, you can drain a can and move straight to cooking — no need to dirty another dish.

More Hygienic
Your food stays inside the can, and your hands don’t have to touch the contents, reducing the risk of contamination.

Space-Saving
Small and compact, can strainers are easy to store in a utensil drawer or even hang on a hook.

How to Choose the Best Can Strainer
When shopping for a can strainer, consider these features:

• Size Compatibility: Make sure it fits the cans you use most frequently.
• Material: Look for BPA-free plastic, food-grade silicone, or stainless steel.
• Ease of Cleaning: Dishwasher-safe options save time and effort.
• Durability: Choose a sturdy build that won’t warp or crack over time.
• Ergonomics: Look for grip-friendly handles or thumb rests for easier use.

Are There Alternatives?
Yes, you could technically use a traditional mesh strainer or colander, but these aren’t optimized for small canned contents. Many people also use the removed can lid or the back of a spoon to hold food back while draining — but this method is less hygienic and more prone to spills or cuts.

A purpose-built can strainer is safer, cleaner, and far more efficient.

Final Thoughts
The can strainer or can colander may seem like a minor kitchen tool, but its usefulness can’t be overstated. Whether you’re preparing a quick lunch or a gourmet dish, it simplifies the process of draining canned foods, reduces mess, and keeps your food cleaner.

If you frequently use canned goods in your cooking, investing in a good-quality can strainer will not only save time but also improve the taste and presentation of your meals.

I remember the rain. Light at first, then heavier, drumming against the windshield. I remember the sound of my mother’s laugh, my fingers tapping absently against the steering wheel as I told her about Nate, the boy who sat two seats ahead of me in chemistry.

I remember the way she glanced over, smirking.

He sounds like trouble, Maeve.

And I remember the headlights.

Too close. Too fast.

The next thing I remember is screaming for my mother.

I was outside the car. Somehow. I don’t remember getting there. My knees were soaked in mud, my hands covered in blood that wasn’t mine.

Mom was lying on the pavement, her body twisted wrong, her eyes half-open, staring at nothing.

I screamed her name until my throat burned. I tried to shake her awake, but she wouldn’t move.

Then… sirens.

Hands pulling me away. A voice saying something about a drunk driver.

Another voice saying, “The mother was driving.”

I gasped, tried to tell them that it was me… but the words wouldn’t come. The world spun, my stomach twisted, and then…

Blackness.

I wake up in a hospital bed. A dull, aching fog fills my skull. There’s a nurse. Machines beeping. The distant murmur of voices in the hallway.

My throat is dry. My limbs feel wrong. The door opens, and I expect to see my mom. For a horrible, fleeting second, I think maybe it was all just a dream.

But then my father steps in.

Thomas.

He looks older than I remember. The last time I saw him was… Christmas? Two years ago? I can’t remember.

He sits beside the bed, hesitating before placing a rough, unfamiliar hand on mine.

“Hey, kid,” he says.

And just like that, I know this isn’t a dream.

She’s really gone.

Two weeks later
I wake up in a house that doesn’t feel like mine.

Julia is in the kitchen, humming. The smell of something earthy and vaguely sweet clings to the air. I stare at the bowl she sets in front of me.

Oatmeal, topped with flaxseeds and blueberries.

“I added some hemp hearts,” she says, as if this is normal. “Hemp seeds are good for you, honey.”

As if my mother isn’t dead and I haven’t been dropped into this house with its bland beige walls and a baby I barely know.

I pick up the spoon. Stare at it. Set it back down.

Julia watches, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

“Not hungry, love?”

I am hungry. Starving, even. But I don’t want this. I want greasy diner waffles. I want to drive to Sam’s Diner at midnight with my mom, splitting pancakes and laughing at the guy who always falls asleep in booth six.

Instead, I shake my head and push the bowl away.

Julia hesitates then she slides a protein ball across the table. It’s some homemade concoction of dates and oats. Her olive branch, I guess? I don’t take it.

“Maeve,” she sighs. “Your dad will be back soon. He went to get diapers for—”

I stand up before she can finish. I don’t want to hear more. I don’t want to know more.

Court

I stand in front of the mirror, surrounded by a pile of discarded clothes. The first dress is too formal. The second makes me look like a kid. The third is too tight, too wrong, too not me.

What do you wear to watch the man who killed your mother sit on trial?

I grab a simple black blouse. It reminds me of the morning of her funeral. Like how I sat on my bed, surrounded by every black item I owned, trying them on, ripping them off.

Nothing felt right. Nothing could make me feel ready to bury her.

I remember standing in front of the mirror that morning, staring at my reflection with swollen, puffy eyes. My hands shook as I buttoned a satin blouse I’d never worn before. Mom would have told me that it didn’t matter.

“They’d be too busy looking at that beautiful smile on your face,” she’d say. “Or that gorgeous hair.”

But I wasn’t dressing for them. I was dressing for her.

Now, I do up the same buttons with fingers that tremble just as much.

I want justice. I want Calloway to pay. But in the back of my mind, guilt whispers: I didn’t see him in time.

I squeeze my eyes shut. I try to breathe.

Then I grab my blazer, straighten my shoulders, and walk out of the door.

Justice first. Guilt later.

The courtroom is too cold, and the seat beneath me is stiff. The man sitting across from me, the one who killed my mother, stares down at his folded hands.

His suit is wrinkled. His jaw is unshaven. He doesn’t look sorry.

Calloway.

He had been drunk. He had already lost his license once. He shouldn’t have been behind the wheel.

I want him to look at me. I want him to see what he’s done.

The lawyer calls my name. My throat tightens as I step forward. The room tilts slightly as I sit. My pulse hammers in my ears.

“Can you tell us what happened that night, Maeve?”

I should say I don’t remember the impact. I should say that we were talking about stupid things… about boys and pizza and the rain, until the headlights came.

Instead, I swallow back the bile and inhale.

“We were on our way home. Then he hit us,” I say.

I wait for the next question. But it doesn’t come from my lawyer. It comes from his.

A woman with sharp eyes and an even sharper voice.

“Maeve, who was driving?”

I go still. There’s a pause. Too long.

“Your mother, correct?” She tilts her head.

I don’t say anything. I just nod. But something shifts inside me.

A memory.

The keys are in my hand. The feeling of the steering wheel under my fingers. The headlights.

Oh, my God. No. No, that’s not right. Is it?

The memory was coming back. The brain fog was lifting… suddenly, the true events were coming back to me. Everything had been hazy since I left the hospital. I was focusing on the loss of my mother, rather than the accident…

I glance at my father. His forehead creases. He shifts forward slightly, confusion flickering across his face. I want to run. I want to vanish.

“I don’t know…” comes out of my mouth instead, so quietly that I’m not sure anyone hears.

The Truth

That night, I’m sitting in my room, staring at the ceiling. The air is thick, suffocating. But the memory won’t leave me.

I see it now. Clear as day.

Mom smiling as she handed me the keys.

“You dragged me out of the house to fetch you, Mae,” she’d said. “So, you drive, kiddo. I’m tired.”

The warmth of the leather beneath my hands. Laughing together. The rain, getting heavier…

And then, those headlights.

I was driving. It was me.

A cold, sick feeling twists inside me. I feel like I might throw up.

I find my father in the living room. He looks up from the couch, his eyes weary, a glass of something amber in his hand.

“I need to tell you something,” I say.

He nods slowly. Waits.

“What’s up, Maeve?”

I sit across from him. The words stick thickly against my throat.

“I was driving.”

He says nothing. He doesn’t even blink.

I swallow hard.

“She… she let me take the wheel. She was tired so because I asked her to fetch me, she gave me the keys… We were talking about… life, and then the rain started, and I didn’t see him, Dad. I didn’t see him until he was right there.”

My voice breaks. My breath comes in short, sharp gasps. I can’t breathe.

His glass clinks as he sets it down. I expect him to yell. To tell me it’s my fault. Instead, he reaches for me.

And I break.

The sobs come fast, violent, shaking my whole body. I fold into him, the weight of it all crushing me. His arms tighten around me, and for the first time in years, I let him hold me.

“It wasn’t your fault, Maeve.” His voice is rough, thick with something I’ve never heard before. “It wasn’t your fault.”

I want to believe him. God, I really want to believe him.

“Go to sleep, Maeve,” my father says. “Just sleep it off, and we’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

We hear Julia in the kitchen. Probably making another batch of those protein balls.

“Okay… Dad,” I mutter and walk away.

I stop at the top of the stairs. Below, the kitchen light spills into the hallway, a soft yellow glow against the dark. I hear voices, low and tired.

My father and Julia.

I step closer. I shouldn’t listen. I know I shouldn’t. But then…

“She told me, Jules,” he says. “She was driving.”

I stop breathing. A cold, sharp feeling spreads through me like ice in my veins.

Silence.

Then the soft clink of a spoon against ceramic. Julia’s kombucha, probably. She drinks it every night, swearing it does something for digestion. I don’t know why I focus on that, except that it’s easier than focusing on what my father just said.

“Mara gave her the keys,” he continues. His voice is rough, like he hasn’t slept. “Maeve had been out. Asked her mother to pick her up from a friend’s house.”

There’s a long, heavy pause.

“If she hadn’t asked… if Mara had just driven them home…”

He doesn’t finish.

My fingers curl around the banister. My nails dig into the wood. I’ve had that thought a thousand times. If I hadn’t called. If I hadn’t needed a ride. If I hadn’t gotten into that car…

Julia speaks carefully, as if she’s gently choosing every word.

“You can’t think like that, Thomas,” she says.

“Can’t I?” he counters.

There’s a bitter chuckle and the sound of a chair scraping.

My father exhales, slow and heavy. Like something inside him is breaking.

“I look at her, and I… Look, I love her, I do. But she’s… a stranger to me, Julia.”

My breath catches. I’ve already lost one parent. But something about hearing my father speak like this… makes me feel like I’m about to lose another.

“Sharing a birthday every other year? A Christmas? That’s not a father… That’s a…” his voice falters. “I wasn’t there for her.”

The words hit me like a fist to the ribs. I press my forehead against the wall. My chest aches. My father loves me. I know he does.

But love doesn’t erase distance. It doesn’t make two people know each other. It doesn’t fill the years of absence. And right now, I don’t know if it ever will.

The Letter

I still have the weekend before going back to the courthouse to hear the final verdict. But after overhearing my father and Julia the night before, I don’t know how to exist.

I’m in bed when I hear Julia in the hallway. She’s carrying Duncan, who’s been screaming for someone to pick him up.

“Momma’s here, sweet boy,” she coos. “Did you think I wasn’t coming to get you? Momma will always get you…”

Her voice trails off as the baby coos loudly, followed by a series of Julia’s kisses on his face.

I miss that. Knowing that my mother would be there for me at any moment. That she would be there to catch me every time I fell.

Now?

I have a father who loves me but struggles to see me.

I don’t know how I’m going to spend the weekend, but I know that I’ll be staying in my room. Maybe go through the trunk of my mother’s belongings. She was always putting her important things into it.

“One day, when everything else is gone, Maeve,” she’d say. “We’ll only have little things that tie us to great memories. You’ll find most of them here, in this trunk. For me, anyway.”

I don’t want to read the letter. I don’t even want to hold it. But when I found it in the green velvet box, I couldn’t put it back. There’s just something about touching my mother’s things that makes me feel… alive.

The paper is soft with age, the edges curled from time. My mother’s handwriting tilts slightly to the right, looping and delicate. It’s so familiar that it hurts.

I should put it back. But my hands tremble as I unfold it.

And I read.

Thomas,

I don’t know why I’m writing this. Maybe because you’ll never read it. Maybe because I’m tired. Or maybe because Maeve is asleep upstairs, and I just kissed her goodnight. And for the first time in a long time, I wondered if I made the right choice.

She’s brilliant, Thomas. Stubborn and messy and so, so alive. And I wonder…

Are you finally ready? Could you be her father the way she needs you to be?

I don’t know. I won’t ask. But I do know this: she’ll be sixteen soon. And she still has time. So much time. And maybe, if you try, she’ll let you in.

Mara

My breath catches. Mom wrote it almost over a year ago. The ink is smudged in places like she hesitated to put down exactly what she felt… like she almost stopped herself from writing it at all.

She thought about this. She wondered.

I press my hand over my mouth, squeezing my eyes shut.

She was supposed to know everything. She was supposed to be right about everything. But she wasn’t. She had doubts.

And if she had doubts, then maybe I can, too. Maybe my father was ready to be there for me…

I exhale, staring at the trunk in front of me. Her things. The pieces of her life.

I let my gaze drift around the room. This room that doesn’t feel like mine. The walls are blank. The shelves are empty. It’s like I’ve been waiting for an escape hatch to appear, waiting for the moment to decide that I don’t belong here and mean it.

But what if I stopped waiting? What if I stayed?

I think about Duncan’s tiny fingers wrapped around mine. I haven’t allowed myself to be with him yet, but I’d love to. I think about Julia standing in the kitchen with her healthy food and strange optimism. I think about my father, sitting on the porch night after night, carrying his own ghosts.

Maybe there’s still time…

The Verdict

Calloway takes a plea deal. Less prison time, but a full admission of guilt. It doesn’t feel like justice. It doesn’t feel like anything.

But as I stand in front of my mother’s portrait, I whisper the words I never got to say:

“I’m so sorry, Mom. I love you. I miss you.”

And for the first time since the crash, I feel like she hears me.

Healing, Slowly

Julia doesn’t say anything about the trial. But the next morning, there’s a plate of waffles on the table. Real ones. With syrup. And butter.

I stare at them. Then at her.

She shrugs, sipping her green tea.

“I caved,” she says. “Don’t tell the other vegans.”

Something unexpected tugs at the corner of my mouth. A smile. Small, but real. Julia sees it. She doesn’t say anything. She just smiles back.

I pick up my fork. Maybe, just maybe, this house could start to feel like home.

“You need to do something,” Julia says, as if reading my mind. “Do something that’s going to make this house feel like home. Plant your mom’s favorite flowers so that you can see them and think of her.”

“Okay,” I say quietly. “I like that idea.”

But before I do anything else, I have to speak to my father. We need to clear the air if I’m going to… heal.

I find my father outside, sitting on the porch steps.

The air is cool, carrying the faint scent of Julia’s weird lavender candles. She lights them everyday, swearing they calm the energy of the house. I used to roll my eyes, but now?

A few weeks of being here and I don’t mind it so much.

I sit beside him. He glances over, surprised.

“Did I disappoint you, Dad?”

“What? Maeve! Never! I was just… shocked when you told me the truth. You had hidden it from everyone.”

“I didn’t hide it, Dad,” I say. “Not at first. I genuinely didn’t remember what happened. We were in the car, there were headlights, and then the next thing I remember was being on the ground with Mom. But the memories have been coming back… It was a mistake.”

He sighs deeply.

“I know, baby,” he says. “I think I just wasn’t prepared to be a father to you. Of course, I’m your dad. But I’ve been your father from the sidelines, never up close. And now, this? It caught me off guard. And I didn’t know how to help you with the loss.”

“I’m helping myself,” I say weakly.

“I know,” he sighs. “But that’s my job, Maeve. Mom would want me to help you. But I’ve been doing a pretty lousy job of it.”

I stare ahead, my fingers twisting in my lap. The words feel heavy, like stones in my chest. But I say them anyway.

“I want to start over,” I say.

I expect hesitation, skepticism. Instead, something in my father’s face softens.

“I’ve been awful,” I admit. The words sting on the way out, but I don’t take them back. “To you. To Julia… But especially to Duncan. I haven’t picked him up once. I haven’t played with him. He’s a baby, he doesn’t deserve that.”

My throat tightens.

“He deserves better. I’ll be better.”

“You don’t have to be perfect, Maeve,” my father says. “Just be here.”

I blink fast, nodding before the tears can spill.

“I want to paint a mural in his room,” I say. I don’t know where the idea came from, but it feels right. “Something fun. Dinosaurs, maybe. And I’m going to learn how to make vegan curry with Julia. I mean, I’ll hate it, but still.”

My dad shakes his head, chuckling. And then, hesitantly, he pulls me into his arms. And this time, I let him. For the first time in a long time, I let myself believe.

Maybe, just maybe… this life won’t be so bad after all.