This morning, she had been sleeping in instead of going with Justin to the stable. It was the weekend, so Justin let out the horses and took them in. Normally, during the weeks, the new stable manager Sarah did all the tasks Justin had back when they first moved to this house.
It felt so weird that they’d lived here twelve years. It had gotten to a point where Harper could remember fuzzy details of her first home and some more vivid, happier ones from Dad’s old house, but that was it.
She got up and unwrapped her hair. When she’d gone to therapy that first year in California, her therapist had been a black woman called Anita. She’d taught Harper a lot about what it meant to be black, and with Dad and Justin’s blessing, Anita had become a mother figure—after she referred Harper to a colleague, of course.