DEMETRIA

My phone buzzed on the nightstand just as I was about to slip out of bed. Anastasia. I swiped to answer, already smiling.

“Happy birthday, Wildfire!” her voice sang through the receiver, full of energy even this early.

I laughed, groaning playfully. “It’s too early for all that noise, Anas.”

“Too early? Girl, it’s your birthday. I should be outside your window with mariachis and balloons.”

I snorted. “Please don’t.”

She ignored me, her tone shifting to teasing. ...