Halfway down the corridor, I stop short at a familiar, deep voice.
Sawyer.
He’s come for me.
I can’t hear what he’s saying, but his tone is serious and urgent. With quick steps, I ease closer, careful my heels don’t click.
Someone else speaks, Mr. Strong, I think.
“Granted,” Sawyer’s words are audible now, “that makes it impossible for me to recommend Ms. Casey for a permanent position . . .”
What?
My heart stops, and a roaring in my ears blocks out everything else. A stinging sensation starts at my chest, spreading through my limbs. Did I think being on trial in front of the likes of Mr. Strong and Mrs. Beaufort was my worst nightmare? I was wrong.Thisis. Sawyer taking me in, letting me fall for him, only to blast me like this.
He let me believe I was worth loving, that Blue Ridge was somewhere I could belong. But here he is, doing it all over again, saving face by putting me down.
Tears fill my eyes as I hurry for thedoor. I’m taking the steps two at a time when a shock of understanding, overwhelming in its intensity, forces me to stop, nearly doubling over.
This instinct to flee has controlled me my entire life.
It had me dashing down those big, marble steps of Everett Academy.
It had me leaving Blue Ridge behind all those years ago.
It had me running away from prom.
It kept me from relationships, and love, and happiness.
And I’m doing it all over gain, reverting to the same instinct.
Not anymore.
IknowSawyer. He wouldn’t do that to me, not again. Instead of assuming the worst from the tiny snippet I heard, I need to talk to him.
Whirling around, I stomp up the steps and into the building.
Sawyer’s coming out of the meeting room. When he spots me, emotion spills over his face in waves. Relief, concern, love.
His arms open to me, and I fill them without hesitation.
“I didn’t know,” he says. “I wouldn’t have let you come alone if I knew what this was.”
“It was bad,” I tell him.
His brows pinch. “I know. I was just in there.”
I can’t help asking, “What’d you tell them?” Heart pounding, I add, “I heard you say you couldn’t recommend me.”
He nods. “I told them that as principal, I couldn’t recommend you. I was up front about our relationship, which is a conflict of interest.”
Warmth spreads in my chest. Of course he was, because he’s never tried to hide me.
His arms circle my waist. “I also told them they’d be foolish not to do everything in their power to keep you. That you’re one of the most passionate teachers I’ve ever seen. You’re great at what you do, and the parents and students love you.”
I give him a sad smile. “I’m still not getting the job.”
He rubs the back of his neck. “It’s that busybody, Beaufort. She saw us that day and got to my dad. But we can figure this out. This isn’t how public schools should be run. We can fight it.”
