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muted, but she can see her dripping hair, the lavender smudges beneath her eyes, and the harsh jut of her hipbones. She’s instantly reminded why she has neglected herself—Liam is everywhere. In the droplets of water raining from the split ends of her water-darkened cabernet hair, she sees that night that she walked alongside the highway in a downpour, away from him and toward darkness. The purple stains beneath her skin are the nights and days she could not find sleep, because he has haunted her dreams with his smile, his laugh, the feel of his skin, everything. The bones of her hips, reaching out toward their own reflection, recall the way they used to crash against Liam’s own, how they might have along the Rogue River that last night, if it hadn’t been the last. She doesn’t long for those things anymore. She’s sickened by them. She shakes her head at her reflection. No , Harper tells herself, and hears her mother’s words reverberating in her head— You don’t give up on the people you love . She isn’t giving up on herself. Not anymore. She grabs her toothbrush and deliberately stares at the sink, instead of the vanity mirror, as she goes about the rest of her long-abandoned routine, intent on forgetting Liam ever left a mark on any part of her—especially, her heart.
     
    On the sidewalk outside Meat and Eat, in the stark light of midmorning, reality returns full stop as Harper makes out the vague outline of a crowd through the frosted glass double doors. Aside from her mother, Austin, and Dylan, Harper hasn’t said a word to anyone, and she isn’t looking forward to human interaction—something she somehow hadn’t anticipated when she decided to go to work. She doesn’t know how to respond to unwanted stares and prying questions. She wonders if she’s supposed to thank people if and when they tell her they’re so sorry to hear about what happened or if and when they say it’s his loss. She doesn’t know how to handle the sympathetic frowns and the pitying glances, the whispers and judgment. She doesn’t know what to do if instead of ordering lunch, people just come in to stare at the shell of a girl that Liam Barnes left behind. Though, given what Austin told her nearly a month ago at the pub, she’s almost certain all of Ashland, tourists included, already knows what has happened between her and Liam. With three months between the breakup and the present, she’s hopeful no one will focus on it, on her. With her fist around one of the door handles, Harper pauses to take a steadying breath before she pulls the door open wide. The small room is thick with customers, just as she expected, and it takes Harper longer than she would like to weave through them, behind the counter, across the meat cutting area, and into the back room.
    “Harp?” The surprise is apparent on Hilary’s face when she looks up at the sound of the swinging door banging open and closed. She’s in the office just off to the left of the general purpose workspace, but she has a clear view of the door, of Harper “What are you doing here? Is everything okay?”
    “I work here,” Harper laughs as she heads into the office, but quickly quiets when her mother’s confusion isn’t resolved. “Unless—do I still work here?”
    “No—no, you still work here.” Hilary takes off her reading glasses and slides them into her hair, nestled against her silver bun. “Are you—did you want to work today ?”
    “If you could use the help, yeah.” Harper toes at the linoleum, uncertainty fueling the movement. “But if Kevin has everything handled, I understand.”
    “You know how that Carter kid is. The only thing he knows about handling meat is how to beat his own. You, my dear,” Hilary aims the tip of her grease pencil at Harper, “are absolutely welcome to help. Always. And by help , I mean save the day . You want the counter or the office?”
    “The office, I think. I haven’t really, you know, seen anyone