“I’m the one who needs to be there.” The words come out before I can stop them.
He nods once, in understanding. “Then you better try to catch as much sleep as you can tonight. Because she’s going to be worried about your well-being too.”
I know he’s right.
I also know that if I close my eyes, I’m going to see her standing in that smoke-filled kitchen, small and brave and breakable in ways she doesn’t let anyone see.
So instead I say, “I’ll be fine,” push myself to my feet, and head toward the locker room to shower. On my way, I send a text to Rhett, the local handyman and hardware store owner, to let him know what happened and tell him I need his help.
I don’t even need to read his reply to know that he’ll be at the bakery first thing to lend a hand and help me ensure that every wire is up to code. That every piece of drywall that was scorched is replaced. And that Emmy and Evie’s cafe is back up and running in no time.
After my shower, I try to stretch out in the bunk room and relax but the truth gnaws at me all night, no matter how hard I try to tune it out.
If anything had happened to Emmy, I don’t know what pieces of me would’ve been left.
three
. . .
Emmy
The secondI push open the back door of Dockside the next morning, Evie isalreadypacing the kitchen like she’s preparing to testify before Congress.
I don’t even get a foot inside before she gasps, throws her arms into the air, and blurts, “THE BAKERY CAUGHT FIRE AND YOU DIDN’T THINK TO WAKE ME UP?”
Here we go.
“I didn’t want to scare you,” I say gently, stepping around her so I can set my tote on the counter. “And it wasn’t even a big fire, just a little?—”
“Alittlefire?” She clamps her hands on top of her head. “Emmy, there is no such thing as a little fire. There are big fires and there are disasters. You had a disaster.”
I bite back a laugh. It’s notreallyfunny but if I don’t laugh, I will absolutely start crying.Again.“The firefighters didn’t think so.”
She levels me with a glare that says she absolutelyknowswho was on that call. “Oh, right.Hayesdidn’t think so.”
And there it is.
The elephant in the room, wearing turnout gear and smelling like pine and smoke.
“We’ll come back to that in a moment. Emmaline Addison Alder, it’s bad enough that you didn’t wake me up last night when this all happened, but then you didn’t even mention it this morning!”
“I, uhm.” I look down at the floor and run the toe of my shoe across a leftover smudge from the night before. “I was hoping I’d beat you here and could explain everything. But I got stuck in traffic on the way back from Boston. I called in a favor and found a place that was willing to open early just for me, so I could get a new mixer and more supplies than the general store currently has.”
“Right. Not buying it.” Evie scowls. “You think I didn’t notice you creeping around the house this morning like a guilty little mouse? You’re a terrible liar, Em.”
I wince. “I wasn’t creeping.”
“You were absolutely creeping,” she fires back, pacing again. “Tiptoeing. Avoiding eye contact. Acting like someone who survived—oh, I don’t know—afireand then tried to pretend it was just another day.”
“I didn’t want you to worry,” I say softly.
But that’s only half the truth.
The other half is a knot sitting low in my stomach, tight and tangled. Ihatebeing the reason Evie panics. She’s already shouldered more than she ever should’ve had to—losing Dad so young, watching Mom drown in grief for years, taking care ofmewhen I couldn’t even figure out how to take care of myself. She’s the strong one. The steady one. The one who always knows what to do. Even though she’s mylittlesister.
And I’m… well, I’m me.
The girl who sets timers and still forgets they’re going off. The girl who overbooks holiday orders because saying no feels like disappointing someone. The girl who can bake twelve kinds of Christmas cookies in her sleep but can’t seem to stopneedingpeople.
