As a child, Cassandra floated through life without overthinking. She never questioned her place in the world or judged the perspectives or motivations of others. Life appeared to her a magical opportunity, a pathway to pleasure.

Tomorrow was the busiest day of her week.

She lived in the moment, and as a beautiful, sensual woman unburdened by contemplation, she found most moments delightful.

Her mother, never reliable, abandoned the family when Cassandra was young. Looking back on it, she’d always felt as though her mother needed something just beyond her grasp. Cassandra didn’t dwell on it. She didn’t fault her mother for wanting a better life. Her mother always lived for tomorrow. She was never truly present, never available, and constantly chasing a better distraction.

And then she was gone.

A few years after her mother left, her father was diagnosed with a cancer he didn’t have the will to fight. The opposite of mother, father had always been an earthy, well-grounded man. He’d worked for the sanitation department, an eight-to-five job that paid the bills but offered no illusion of upward mobility. He’d always been distant and grew more so after his wife left, but he’d loved his daughter. He passed away a couple of years after Cassandra graduated from high school, and she discovered herself free to pursue the life she desired.

Her father’s death taught her that every moment was sacred. Life wouldn’t wait. It needed to be enjoyed before it slipped through her fingers.