Shit.
Her eyes widen for a fraction of a second, but to her credit, she doesn't break character. Instead, she gives an almost imperceptible shake of her head before returning her attention to the children.
“Who wants to play Pin the Carrot on the Snowman?” she asks brightly, her voice not betraying a hint of the murder I'm sure she's mentally planning for me.
As the kids cheer and rush toward another part of the room, Laura makes a subtle gesture toward the hallway, her eyes flicking briefly in my direction again. The message is clear: Get out.
I give her a sheepish smile and a small wave before slipping into the darkness, fully prepared to leave. It’s only when the man I met earlier—the birthday girl’s dad, I assume—comes in with a cake and the lights go down, that I realize I can’t leave. Not just yet, at least.
“And now, my little snowflakes, it's time for us to celebrate Princess Emma's special day with a royal birthday song!”
She stands, gathering her dress, and begins to sing “Happy Birthday” in a clear, beautiful voice. The other children join in, but Laura's voice carries above them all, sweet and sure. I find myself unable to look away from her face,illuminated by the glow of the candles as Emma’s father carries the cake toward the little redhead.
The little girl's face is absolutely radiant as everyone sings to her, her eyes darting between Laura and the glowing castle cake like she can't believe her luck.
When the song ends, Laura kneels carefully beside her chair. “Make a wish, Princess Emma,” she says softly. “The most magical wishes come true on birthdays.”
Emma closes her eyes tight, thinking hard, then opens them and blows out all the candles in one determined breath. Everyone cheers, and Emma turns to Laura with a conspiratorial smile.
“I wished that you would come to my birthday next year too,” she whispers, loud enough for those nearby to hear.
Laura's smile softens into something genuine, a flash of the real her peeking through the princess facade. “That's a lovely wish,” she says. “But you know what? You didn't need to use birthday magic for that. You can just ask me.”
Emma's eyes widen. “Really?”
“Really,” Laura nods. “Royal snow promise.”
They hook pinkies, and something in my chest tightens at the sincerity in Laura's expression. She might be playing a character, but the kindness she's showing this little girl is real.
It's official. Everything about Laura is perfect to me, and I know for a fact I’m screwed.
As the mom begins cutting the cake, Laura stands, smoothing her dress again. Her eyes meet mine briefly across the room, and though she quickly looks away, I catch the message in them: You are so dead.
Worth it, I think, watching her help distribute cake to the excited children, her blue dress shimmering under the party lights.
Completely worth it.
Chapter 8
I’m going to kill him. I’m going to choke him with a balloon animal. I’ll do it with a majestic, sparkly swan so next time he wants to watch, he can do it from the afterlife.
The second I get to the truck, I want to explode.
Instead, I’m faced with the Everest-level climb required to actuallyget intoScotty Hendricks’ stupid giant truck.
The door opens, and Scotty’s hand appears. He wiggles his fingers, offering me help. Of course I ignore it. Instead, I toss my bag onto the passenger seat, plant both hands on the door frame, and start to haul myself up.
No surprise, I slip in my princess shoes.
“Need a hand?”
Scotty’s leaning over to the passenger seat, his grin wide.
“I’ll use small words so you’ll be sure to understand, stop trying to help me.”
He chuckles and shakes his head, only making me want to choke him out even more.
“I should be furious with you,” I say, tossing my hair over my shoulder so I can gather up the ends of my puffy dress.
