Instead, her focus was on the two women who were whispering behind their hands like this was middle school.
Middle school was actually where Winnie had first encountered Brittany Hunnicutt and Whitney Boyd.Britt and Whit, they’d called themselves, proudly proclaiming their best friendship until the whole school had taken it as fact that they were the two reigning queen bees of the school.
They had been old-schoolit girls, the kind that felt that their own status was best maintained by bullying other students.
And Winnie had been one of their favorite targets.
“Do I even know who that is?” Whit asked, looking at her fingernails in a bored way.
“Yes,”Britt insisted. “She was that mousy little thing back in high school? Super tragic hair? And then she moved, but apparently she’d totally the same, if she’s still giving tours at some dusty old history place.”
In her head, Winnie had about a hundred comebacks for this. Nobody had made these two come to the historical society! Unless there was some super weird criminal kidnapping people and forcing them to learn about old railroads at gunpoint, these two were here entirely of their own volition.
“And how many people rode on the railroad?” the old woman asked, drawing Winnie back from her thoughts.
“Oh, none,” Winnie said, struggling to focus. “It was a cargo line. Only about six miles long.”
The woman frowned thoughtfully. “I don’t know why a person would take a train to go only six miles,” she mused.
“It wasn’t for people,” Winnie said. Wait, hadn’t she just said that. “It carried cargo.”
“Wait, Idoremember that,” Whit said. “What a weird little coincidence!”
Winnie had to fight not to grind her teeth. The condescending way they were talking, pretending like they were in their own little world when anyone could hear them, was taking her straight back to high school.
Most kids hated moving as teenagers, at least according to every book Winnie had ever read. When her parents had told her they were moving and that she would have to start over at a new school, Winnie had been so happy that she’d cried. She hadn’t exactly made a bunch of new pals at her new school, but at least she hadn’t been forced to spend time listening to these two spread their mean rumors.
“Cargo,” the elderly lady said. “Oh yes, I suppose cargo would fit the bill. Some things are heavy, you know.”
Winnie did in fact know that some things were heavy. She made herself smile and nod robotically at the woman.
“Indeed. But it’s time for us to head into the last room on the tour.” She said this second part loud enough that the rest of the room could hear her. Obediently, everyone shuffled into the last room, a permanent exhibit about Magnolia Shore’s history. Winnie kept her eyes fixed on middle distance as she gave the same speech she’d given a thousand times before about the town’s founding back in the colonial era, then thanked everyone for coming, pointed out the donation box, and fled.
She headed swiftly back to her small office, refusing to look behind her for even a second.
“Oh, hey, Winnie,” Colin, one of the summer employees, called out to her. He was a history student at a nearby college and was getting class credit for working here. “I’m ready to take the next tour.”
“Thanks, Colin,” she called over her shoulder. She likely should have been more effusive, especially since he had hurried to come in on his day off. But the only thing in her brain at that moment wasescape, escape, escape.
She didn’t think she took a full breath until her feet hit the pavement outside.
Winnie sucked in a lungful of sea air, feeling faintly resentful. How dare those two bullies from her past show up at her work? That was her safe place and it had been for years. In fact, she wanted them to leave the whole of Magnolia Shore, to go back to Lindonvale where they’d all grown up or wherever they lived these days.
As much as she would have liked it though, Winnie did accept that she wasn’t actually in charge of the whole town.
All she could do, in the end, was hope that they would leave town soon enough… and never come back.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Diana felt certain that the numbers on her screen were actually moving. She blinked twice, hard, and… nope.
It was just her.
The numbers were staying in place. Shocker.
With a garbled groan, she leaned her head on her hand where it was propped against the glass counter in the boutique. Today was rainy, which meant that the shop would be a bit quieter than usual. Diana had thought that a good opportunity to tackle all the accounting stuff that she’d neglected after going through the uncomfortable process of letting her previous bookkeeper go.
This morning, Diana had been so optimistic. She could get it all done today; she was certain of it.
