FINDING ROSE

ROSE

"Rose, are you even listening?"

I blink out of my thoughts as Elsie swats my arm with her notebook. The lecture hall is almost empty now, students rushing out into the afternoon sun while we're still packing up.

"Sorry," I mutter, sliding my laptop into my bag. "What did I miss?"

She leans across the desk, eyes shining. "Applications for the Sterling & Co. internship open next week. Rose, this is it. This is our chance. Do you even realize how huge this is?"

I raise a brow. "Sterling & Co.? You mean the company that chews up nine out of ten applicants before they even see the interview stage?"

Elsie's grin widens. "Exactly. And we're going to be in that one percent. Imagine it, interning at one of the top firms in the world. The kind of name that lands you anywhere you want after graduation."

I laugh softly, shouldering my bag. "Or we get rejected and end up sobbing into a pint of chocolate chip ice cream."

"Speak for yourself," she retorts, tossing her curls back. "I already practiced my confident, hire-me speech in the mirror last night. Twice."

"Of course you did." I roll my eyes, but my lips twitch into a smile.

As we push open the glass doors and step into the bright chaos of the city, Elsie links her arm through mine. The streets hum with traffic, laughter, and the faint smell of coffee drifting from a café across the road.

"You should apply, Rose," she says more gently now. "You're top of the class. If anyone belongs at Sterling & Co., it's you."

I glance at her, warmth spreading through my chest despite the nerves fluttering in my stomach. "You really think so?"

"I know so." She bumps her shoulder into mine with a grin. "But first, sushi. If I eat one more sad cafeteria meal, I'll lose my will to live."

I laugh, letting her tug me down the busy sidewalk. "Fine. Lead the way."

We weave through the crowds, dodging students and street vendors, our laughter bouncing over the noise of the street. Elsie tells me about a professor who nearly cried because someone submitted a PowerPoint full of memes instead of a business proposal, and I'm laughing so hard I nearly trip on a crack in the pavement.

By the time we reach the restaurant, the smell of fried tempura and miso soup makes my stomach growl. It's bright, colorful, and buzzing with students. Elsie slides into a booth by the window, practically bouncing with excitement.

Before I can sit, my phone buzzes in my bag. The caller ID makes me smile instantly.

"Auntieee!" I answer as I step outside, my voice filled with joy.

"My beautiful Rose," comes the warm reply, her Nigerian accent wrapping around me like home. Aunty Jane, my uncle's wife, my anchor. "How many times will I tell you to stop calling me Auntie? Just Jane. I'm not that old."

I laugh, leaning against the wall. "I know, but it slips out every time."

"You think I don't know you do it on purpose?" she teases, laughter spilling through the line.

Aunty Jane had a way of making me smile and making everything seem ok with just a laughter my worries are all vanished. She's the sweetest human being I have met.

My chest loosens, and I smile. "How are you? How's everyone at home?"

"The kids are fine, healthy and driving me mad as always," she says fondly. "I just wanted to hear your voice. You've been busy, so I didn't want to disturb you."

I swallow, my throat tightening. "I'm okay, Auntie. Classes are intense, but I'm managing. Nothing's really changed here."

Her voice softens. "I'm proud of you, Rose. You've come so far."

My eyes sting unexpectedly, and I blink hard, pushing the lump in my throat down. "Thanks, Auntie. I miss you. I miss all of you."

"We miss you too. Next time, I'll put the kids on the line so you can hear their noise for yourself."

I chuckle, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. 

"Please do. Tell them I love them."

"I will, my dear. Stay strong, hm?"

"I will."

We end the call, but I stand there a moment longer, chest heavy with longing and comfort all at once. Then, across the street, my eyes catch on an ice cream truck painted in pastel colors. Elsie's favorite flavor is mint chocolate chip. I smile, already picturing her squealing when I surprise her with it later.

The pedestrian light turns green. I step off the curb.

Then...

A blaring horn.

My heart stops as a sleek black car screeches toward me, close enough that I can feel the rush of air against my skin. The world seems to slow, every sound stretching thin, sharp.

For a single, terrifying moment, all I can think is

Is this how it ends