Instead, she nodded.“Good night, Dasher.”
“Night, Ellie,” he said.
He turned and walked into the snow.
She closed the door slowly behind him and leaned back against it, eyes closed, heart full of noise.Her mom passed by with two bowls of soup.
“You all right, honey?”
Ellie opened her eyes.“No,” she replied.
Judy smiled gently.“Still got it really bad, huh?”
Ellie couldn’t even argue.
Upstairs later, after tucking Maddy in and cleaning up from dinner, she stood by her bedroom window, watching the snow pile up.Dasher’s tire tracks had already vanished.
She wanted to pretend none of this mattered.That she hadn’t felt anything on that ride.That her heart hadn’t fluttered when he met Maddy’s eyes and smiled so gently.But it did.She did.
She touched the glass, cool under her palm, and whispered to no one, “This can’t be happening again.”
Chapter Four
The old storage unithad never seen so much foot traffic.Between the broken lock that had been hastily replaced and the tables stacked with half-sorted toys, wrapping paper, and donation forms, Ellie felt like she was living there part-time.
It was well past nine, and she really should have gone home.But the tree still wasn’t decorated, the banner needed ironing, and there was a box of plushies that hadn’t been sorted by age group.
She crouched by the donation bins, making neat piles on the scuffed concrete floor, muttering labels to herself.“Baby ...toddler ...eight to ten...”
Footsteps echoed behind her, heavy and sure.
“You know,” Dasher drawled, “I could’ve sworn this was a toy drive, not a full-time move-in.”
Ellie didn’t look up.“Do you ever help without commentary?”
“I’m great at heavy lifting and offering moral support.”He stepped beside her, hands full of tangled Christmas lights, and grinned down at her.“Also untangling electrical disasters.”
