The stampede toward the cafe counter shakes the floorboards. Lacy laughs, standing. Offers me a hand up. I take it, let her pull even though she can't budge my weight. The gesture matters.
"You were amazing," she says.
"I roared at children."
"Exactly. They loved it." She squeezes my hand. "Thank you."
The press photographer approaches. "Mind if I get a quote? For the article?"
Lacy stiffens. I feel her retreat, walls going up. Publicity means scrutiny. Scrutiny means pressure.
I step forward. "What do you want to know?"
The photographer taps her recorder. "How does it feel, being part of the cultural exchange program? Do you think initiatives like this help bridge gaps?"
Big questions. Heavy ones. I choose my words carefully.
"I think people are scared of what they don't know. Orcs look different. Sound different. But inside?" I tap my chest. "Same hopes. We want to belong. Create. Share meals. Tell stories. Programs like this let us prove we're not monsters. Just neighbors who happen to be green and eat questionable amounts of stew."
Laughter ripples through nearby parents. The photographer grins. "Perfect. And what about you, Ms. Ellis? How's the partnership working?"
Lacy hesitates. I watch her weigh options. Panic flickers in her eyes. Then she straightens. "Stone's been invaluable. He brings energy and creativity. Plus, the kids adore him. That's what community spaces should do—bring people together."
Diplomatic. Safe. But her hand finds mine again. Squeezes.
The photographer thanks us. Leaves with a cheerful wave. The door dings behind her.
Lacy exhales hard. "That was terrifying."
"You handled it perfectly."
"Did I?" She worries her bottom lip. "What if Blair sees the article? What if she uses it against the festival grant?"
I turn her to face me. Cup her cheek. "Then we'll handle it. Together. Your dream doesn't crumble because one councilwoman has opinions."
She leans into my palm. "You make it sound easy."
"It's not. But you're not alone anymore." The words come out fierce. Protective. True.
Her eyes glisten. She blinks fast. "How did you crash into my life and become essential in three days?"
"Orc magic. Very potent." I kiss her forehead. "Also, I'm excellent at catastrophic first impressions."
She laughs. Wet and shaky. "The awning."
"The awning," I agree solemnly.
We spendthe afternoon organizing shelves. Parents trickle out with children clutching new books. The cafe hums with low conversation. I brew coffee under Lacy's instruction, only spilling twice. Improvement.
Darius texts me around three.
Saw the press. Bold move. Blair won't like it.
I show Lacy the message. She pales.
"Maybe we should've declined the interview."
"No." I set my phone down. "Hiding doesn't help. We did nothing wrong. I read to kids. You run an amazing space. If Blair has problems, she can say them to our faces."
