By the time they finished breakfast, the sun had climbed just enough to warm the cracked pavement outside. The quiet town still hadn't fully woken up—only the occasional car passed, and most of the shops remained shuttered. Selena walked side by side with Jennette, the rhythm of their footsteps syncing naturally, like they'd known each other longer than an hour.
Turned out, they were staying at the same motel.
"You're not a serial killer, right?" Jennette joked, unlocking her door.
Selena smirked. "Not unless ex-wives count."
They both laughed.
"You free for five minutes?" Jennette asked. "You can meet my husband."
Selena hesitated. "You sure it's okay?"
Jennette waved it off. "If I don't introduce you now, he'll give me that look all the way to New York—like I forgot to tell him something important. Trust me, you're doing me a favor."
Jennette's room was on the second floor. It wasn't much, just a plain, dated motel suite with two twin beds and beige curtains that didn't fully close. But it was clean, and the air smelled faintly of lavender and detergent.
"Sam?" Jennette called out as she opened the door. "We've got company."
A man stood near the window, folding T-shirts into a suitcase. He turned with a polite, neutral smile—tall, with kind eyes and arms that looked like they'd lifted one too many laundry bags.
"This is Selena, long story short, we met at the breakfast cafe down the road," Jennette said, tossing her purse onto the bed. "She's headed to New York, and needed a job"
Selena gave a small wave. "Hi."
Samuel wiped his hands on his jeans and crossed the room to shake hers. "Nice to meet you."
His grip was firm.
"She just got divorced and doesn't know what she will do in New York," Jennette continued, flopping down on the bed. "And we need help with our laundry business."
Selena blinked.
Samuel looked at his wife, then back at Selena. "We've been running our shop with just the two of us for over a year now. Jennette mostly does the business side. I'm on folding and delivery. We've been putting off hiring anyone because we didn't want strangers digging through people's laundry. But Jennette thinks she will be back at her old school as a teacher."
Selena nodded. "Oh?"
"Yes," he added, "So I kinda need hands in the laundry, and you seem like someone who knows how to start over. That's a skill. And right now, I need more hands than hesitation."
Selena let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "So that's a yes?"
"Absolutely," he said. "If you're up for it."
She smiled, "Yeah. Yeah, I think I am."
Jennette clapped her hands. "Well then, welcome to the team."
Selena glanced between the two of them, a playful glint forming in her eyes. "Now, should I start calling you Mr. Miller and Mrs. Miller?"
Jennette burst out laughing. Samuel just rolled his eyes, grinning.
"God, no," Jennette said. "That makes us sound like we run a retirement home."
"First names," Samuel added. "Please. If I hear 'Mr. Miller' I'll start checking my pockets for hard candy."
They all laughed.
Something about the moment felt… grounding. The way laughter filled the plain motel room, bouncing off the old wallpaper and tangled sheets. It didn't fix everything, but it softened the edges.
"We're heading out just after sunset," Samuel said, zipping up his suitcase. "Try to get a few solid hours of driving in before traffic swallows us."
"I'll follow you," she said. "Better than figuring out directions on my own."
Jennette passed her a sticky note with an address scrawled in blue pen.
"This is our shop," she said. "Miller's Wash & Fold. Queens. It's not glamorous, but it's home."
Selena turned the note over in her hand, reading it again and again like it might disappear if she blinked too long.
"And when do you want me to start?"
Samuel raised a brow. "More immediate, more good."
Selena smiled. "How's the day after tomorrow sound?"
"Perfect."
Evening crept in slowly, casting long shadows across the parking lot as the sky shifted from gold to pale purple. Selena stood outside her motel room, her suitcase packed, car idling softly behind her.
She watched Jennette and Samuel double-check the straps on their roof rack, making sure nothing would fly off in the wind. They looked like a couple who'd weathered storms, real ones—the kind with layoffs, late bills, nights spent fighting over things that didn't matter but felt like they did. But they were still here. Still folding towels and cracking jokes in cheap motels.
She climbed into her car and pulled out behind them, the taillights of Jennette's SUV glowing softly like a guide. The road ahead stretched wide and unknown, dotted with streetlights and possibility.
She didn't know what would happen in New York. She didn't know how long she'd stay. But she had a job waiting. People who laughed with her. People who believed in starting over.
And for now, that was enough.