Mrs. Patterson and her Labrador were leaving the office when Monique spotted me. Her arms were crossed, eyebrows furrowed. "Is everything alright?"
"It's a long story, but I have to pick Casey up from school. Something…" I bit my lip, looking at Monique. "Did you hear about Easton's secret child?"
"I caught something, but I figured it was a rumor…" A look of remorse crossed Monique's features. "You don't need to explain a thing to me, Sadie. Do what you've gotta do. Chin up, girl." She squeezed my arm. "Aimee and I can take care of the rest of the appointments."
A wave of relief washed over me. From the moment the clinic opened, Monique's support had been a lifeline.
"Thank you so much, Monique." I gave her a quick hug and then left.
The drive to the school passed in a blur of anxiety, my knuckles white on the steering wheel. So many thoughts crashedthrough my mind. I couldn't even turn the radio on in case something else about Casey came up.
When I arrived, the school secretary gave me a look I couldn't quite decipher before directing me to the counselor's office. I found Casey sitting on a small couch, her eyes red-rimmed and her expression confused. Ms. Carter, a young blonde woman who looked more like someone's paralegal in a business casual skirt and blouse, sat beside her.
"Mom!" Casey jumped up, racing over to me. I wrapped my arms around her and inhaled the familiar scent of her strawberry shampoo.
"What happened, Casey?"
She pulled back and looked up at me with a question I'd been dreading.
"Lily and Max said Uncle Easton is my dad. They said their parents were talking about it. Is that true? Is Uncle Easton my real dad?"
A woman approached us, her hands laced before her. A grimace pulled across her face. I assumed this was Ms. Carter. "Perhaps we could speak privately, Dr. Honors?"
I nodded numbly. "I'll be right back, sweetheart, okay?"
After getting Casey settled with a book, I walked with the counselor a little way down the hall.
"Several children's parents were discussing something they'd seen. Easton Henley was at a sporting goods store yesterday. Apparently, he purchased a hockey stick and had it customized." She paused. "With Casey's name. Casey Henley."
My breath caught.
He'd done it. Publicly claimed her. Put his name with hers on a hockey stick for the entire town to see.
"I assume he made some comment about it being for his daughter," Ms. Carter continued gently. "And by this morning,it had spread through the parent network. The children heard their parents talking."
Of course they had. This was Amber Falls. Gossip traveled faster than wildfire.
"The children were quite persistent," she added. "Casey became upset when they kept insisting herunclewas actually her father. She said they were lying, but then became confused and asked to call you."
"Thank you for handling this sensitively," I said. "I'll take Casey home now."
After going back out to Casey in the hallway, I took her hand, and we headed out to the car.
Once home, I led Casey to the living room couch, my heart pounding so hard I wondered if she could hear it. This wasn't how I wanted this to happen. Easton and I had agreed to tell her together, to present a united front despite the complicated emotions between us.
But that plan had gone out the window the moment he'd ordered that hockey stick.
"Am I in trouble?" Casey asked in a small voice as we sat down.
"No, sweetheart. Not at all." I took her hands in mine, noticing how they'd grown this year, with scraped knuckles from hockey practice and a Shadow Wolves bandage on one finger.
"The kids at school," she began, her voice wavering. "They said Uncle Easton is my dad. They said their parents had heard him say so at the store. But that can't be right, can it? Because you said my dad wasn't around."
Hanging my head, I took a deep breath, trying to calm the panic rising in my chest. When I looked back up, I said, "Casey, there's something I need to tell you, and it might be confusing at first." I squeezed her hands gently. "Eastonisyour dad."
Her stare intensified, a mixture of shock and something else. Excitement?
"Really? Uncle Easton is my actual dad? Like, my real dad?"
