I pull up the staff email thread on my phone, scrolling. “It was in the notes from September. Hanover said we’d received a community grant… small. Enough for snack packs and two hours of tutoring twice a week. She even asked for volunteers.”
Jack’s jaw tightens. “And now it’s gone.”
I nod. “Gone.”
Jack’s voice is low. “Grayson’s going to want to hear this.”
The mention of his boss makes me tense again. “Is it… bad?”
“It’s suspicious,” Jack corrects. “And right now we treat suspicious like dangerous until proven otherwise.”
I stare down at my phone, stomach churning.
Then Jack reaches over and covers my hand with his—warm, steady, grounding.
“You did good today,” he says quietly.
My throat tightens. “I feel like I didn’t. I couldn’t even fight for my program.”
“You didn’t fight because you were smart,” he says. “You don’t tip your hand until you know what you’re dealing with.”
I glance up at him, surprised.
Jack’s gaze stays on the road. “Also, you kept showing up for your kids. That matters.”
My eyes sting.
I squeeze his hand once, then let it go before I cry in the truck like a cartoon.
Back at the cabin, the tension finally slips. Not the fear. Not the mystery. But the immediate “hold it together” pressure.
Jack checks locks and windows out of habit. I kick off my shoes and curl up on the couch with a blanket, laptop on my thighs, pretending I’m going to revise tomorrow’s lesson plan.
Jack walks into the living room and stops in front of me.
“What?” I ask, trying to sound normal.
He doesn’t answer. He just looks at me—eyes dark, hungry, like he’s been holding back all day.
My pulse jumps.
“Jack,” I whisper.
He steps closer. “You were brave today.”
My breath catches. “I was terrified.”
His gaze drops to my mouth. “You did it anyway.”
The praise hits somewhere deep—somewhere tender—and suddenly I’m not thinking about grants or principals or zip ties.
I’m thinking about him.
About last night.
About the way I wanted him all day and had to pretend I didn’t.
Jack reaches down, curls his hand around my ankle, and gently pulls until my legs slide off the couch and my body shifts closer to the edge.
