"An inside job?" Jamison glanced at her, pausing mid-thought. He'd been stretched thin lately, barely keeping up with everything on his plate. Boyd had mentioned the situation to him yesterday, but Jamison had only half- listened, too preoccupied to dig deeper.
Ivy's gaze was earnest. "Exactly. We can't just focus on outsiders. After all, no one knows the neighborhood better than the people who work or live here." Otherwise, how would someone know exactly which streetlights were out or where the cameras had stopped working?
"Good point." Jamison looked at her, his blue eyes flashing with a hint of admiration. "You're sharp. You always manage to cut straight to the heart of the matter."
Ivy had grown up hearing compliments, so most praise rolled off her back. But for some reason, Jamison's approval always made her glow inside.
After lunch, Jamison told her to head back to work. He appreciated her thoughtfulness. Still, he worried about leaving Ivy alone to deal with his parents. If his mother happened to be in one of her moods, Ivy might end up bearing the brunt of it.
Feeling guilty, Ivy took his hand and apologized again. "Last night was my fault. I'll go home tonight, I promise."
Jamison smiled, reaching out to gently tap her cheek, then couldn't resist giving it a soft squeeze. Her skin was so smooth and soft, it was almost addictive.
"At least you have a conscience and know when you're wrong," Dr. Ludwig teased.
Ivy shot him a look and batted his hand away. "You've only got yourself to blame. The way you are every night, neither of us gets a good night's sleep."
"Alright, I'll try to behave myself," he replied, a little sheepish.
Ivy could only roll her eyes in response. Her phone rang, and Jamison's name flashed on the screen. He checked the caller ID, his expression darkening.
"Hello..."
"Jamison, Mom's in the hospital again? Something this serious and you didn't think to tell me? I had to hear it from the doctor." On the other end, Carla's voice was sharp with worry. She'd just learned about Adela Ludwig's latest hospitalization and called immediately.
Jamison had deliberately kept it from her, hoping she wouldn't bother their mother while she was recovering. But Micah was also laid up in the same hospital. Carla came every day to look after her son, so sooner or later, she'd hear about it from the doctors.
"Isn't Mom in the hospital because of you? If you'd stop pretending everything was fine, maybe she wouldn't end up here so often."
Jamison's feelings toward his sister were complicated, but mostly it was frustration. There's a reason people say the pitiful often bring it upon themselves, and Carla was a prime example. She'd squandered every advantage she had. No matter how many people tried to steer her right, she'd stubbornly do the opposite, acting on impulse, making a mess of things, and then playing the victim so others had to step in and clean up.
If their parents weren't still alive, Jamison would've cut her off long ago.
"Pretend everything's fine? What good news do I have to share these days?" Carla's voice was heavy with defeat.
That set Jamison off. "Then do us all a favor and stay away from Mom. If anything happens to her, you'll be the one to blame. Don't expect me or Ethan to keep bailing you out."
With that, he ended the call.
Ivy watched the tension in his face and felt a pang of sympathy. She understood Jamison's helplessness and frustration—she'd been there herself. Relatives like Carla were a drain on the whole family. Jamison's burden was heavier than hers.
Ivy could cut ties with her own family if she needed to, shutting out all the drama and pain. Jamison didn't have that luxury. His parents were still alive. They couldn't just stand by and watch their daughter struggle, especially now, when age and illness made them less able to handle things themselves. That meant the rest of the siblings had to pick up the slack, whether out of guilt or simple compassion. Even if Jamison was cold by nature, there was no way he could ignore his own parents.
"Don't let it get to you," Ivy said softly. "Help if you can, but if you can't, then let it go. Sometimes respecting another person's path is the kindest thing you can do."
Some of the tension eased from Jamison's face. He patted her hand and managed a reassuring smile. "I'm fine. Don't worry about me."
"Alright, I'll get going. You should try to get some rest while you can." She knew how busy he was and didn't want to take up any more of his rare midday break. They went their separate ways, each heading back to work.
That night, Jamison was on the night shift and didn't come home. Ivy, thinking of the two cats in the apartment, decided to go home early.
Before bed, she chatted with Katrina on WhatsApp. Katrina mentioned her mother's illness was getting worse, worry seeping into every word. Ivy felt too young to be facing the cruelty of life and the weight of time, but here she was.
Katrina, hearing about Ivy's own troubles and how Micah's tragedy had set off a chain reaction, could only sigh in sympathy.
Time slipped by quickly, and before she knew it, Christmas Eve was almost here. Ivy remembered the date well. When she'd signed the papers with Jamison, she'd noticed his birthday—December 24th—on his ID. It was hard to forget.
Back then, she never imagined their whirlwind marriage would turn out to be so loving and sweet, or that she'd be thinking about how to celebrate his birthday. Now, seeing how much he carried on his shoulders, how even when he made it home it was late and he brought the cold in with him, she couldn't help but want to do something special for him. Maybe throw a little party—just a chance for him to relax, to be happy, even if just for a night.