“The hell it isn’t,” Beck snarls.
Before she can spit another word, another voice cuts in. Tansy.
“Lo did nothing wrong. She tried to warn us about you. She came with proof. With documents that explained everything. And what did you come with, outside of nothing more than accusations you can’t defend?”
Another joins. Then another. People standing, one after the other.
“She was a child when you stole from us.”
“We’ve seen the evidence.”
“You don’t belong here anymore.”
My vision blurs. I swipe at my eyes, but the tears come anyway, hot and blinding. And then the sound swells. A tide of people rising together. Not whispers this time. Not doubt, but support.
For me.
My parents try to hold their ground, but it’s useless. The current has shifted, sweeping them out with it.
The mayor clears his throat, clearly wishing he was anywhere else. “I think it’s clear where this town stands.”
And then my father says my name one last time. But I can’t look at him.
I’m already moving, straight into the arms waiting for me.
Hayes catches me first, pulling me in, and then Beck’s hand finds mine, Ford’s presence solid at my back. Their scents surround me, fierce and calming, until the room fades and all I can feel is them.
Safe. Wanted.
Home.
Here, in Honeysuckle Grove. The last place I ever thought I’d feel at home.
The hall empties in waves, buzzing with leftover tension and righteous satisfaction. Chairs scrape. Doors swing. The smell of coffee and old wood lingers. A ghost of everything that just happened.
My parents disappear. Swept out without so much as a goodbye, their polished smiles cracking somewhere between Beck’s speech and the mayor’s awkward retreat. I should feel triumphant. Vindicated. The town stood up for me.
Forme.
But all I feel is… hollow. Like someone reached inside and wrung me out.
The guys keep close as we slip out the side door into the cooling night air. Hayes’s hand brushes my back. Ford is a wall at my shoulder. Beck walks a step ahead, daring anyone to come for me.
“You okay?” Hayes asks softly once we’re clear of the hall.
I nod, but it’s a lie, and they know it. I’m okay with that, though. One of these days, I’ll be okay with myself once again. If nothing else, they’ve taught me that.
“Yeah. Fine.”
The street is quiet. The sky, deep and bruised with stars. I suck in a shaky breath, tasting snow and Christmas on the breeze, and it’s almost enough to loosen the knot in my chest. When my phone buzzes, I jump, heart lurching. For a second, stupid panic flares.
Them. Coming back for another round.
But it’s not. It’s my brother.
My throat goes tight. I stare at the screen like it might shatter if I touch it.
“Answer it,” Ford murmurs.
