I stood there longer than necessary, staring at the spot where she had been.
Chapter Seven: Revelations
Kitty
I told myself the walk back to SnowDrop Inn was just cold, not personal.
The wind cut sharply down the street, slipping under my scarf and finding the one spot along my collarbone that was already sore from snowboarding. I tucked my hands deeper into my pockets and kept walking, boots crunching against the packed snow. Maple Ridge had twinkling lights and shop windows dressed up like they had something to prove. Everything was cheerful and contained.
Inside my head, nothing felt contained at all.
I replayed the guitar lesson again, the way my fingers had finally found the chord shape, the way Caleb had smiled when it sounded almost right. That part glowed softly, like a candle I wanted to protect.
Then the rest of it crept in.
I’m not performing.
The words had landed so abruptly that I still felt the echo of them. His voice wasn’t raised or angry. Just firm enough to close something I hadn’t realized was open.
I told myself I shouldn’t have brought the talent show up at all. That it was unprofessional. That I had blurred lines that did not need blurring. He had offered guitar lessons, not to help with my problems.
And yet Caleb had volunteered to help with sound. He had said yes to Marjorie without hesitation.
So why had he pulled away from me?
The question followed me into the inn and up the stairs, settling in my thoughts like something unfinished. I changed out of my coat slowly, aware of how stiff my arms felt, how tired my body was in a way that sleep would not fix. Downstairs, voices drifted up, familiar and overlapping.
Going into the small apartment I shared with Lydia and Meri, I sat at my desk and opened the talent show folder again, flipping through pages I already knew by heart. There were lists and timelines with notes in my own careful handwriting, trying to impose order on something that resisted it. Beside sound, I wrote down Caleb’s name.
Did that mean he would help with the sound during the talent show? Or just set up the equipment? Was he lending us equipment, or did I need to source that?
I exhaled and leaned back in my chair, staring at the ceiling. I realized I was uncomfortable asking him those questions. The shop had gone so quiet when Caleb misunderstood me, like the air itself had pulled away. He had looked cornered and defensive. Like I had stepped too close to something he guarded carefully.
That reaction didn’t come from nowhere. Somewhere, at some point, Caleb had a bad experience with performing and refused to do it again.
I heard footsteps in the hallway and straightened automatically. Lydia appeared in the doorway, still buzzing withthe energy she carried everywhere, even when the day should have worn her down.
“There you are,” she said. “I was wondering when you would get back.”
“Did you need something?” I asked, already bracing.
She leaned against the doorframe, studying me with an expression that suggested curiosity rather than concern. “How did your lesson go?”
“Fine,” I said, because it was easier than explaining the truth.
She hummed. “You don’t look fine.”
I didn’t respond immediately, which was answer enough.
After a beat, Lydia said, “You know he used to be a big deal, right?”
The words landed so casually that I almost missed them.
“What?” I asked.
She tilted her head. “Caleb. Caleb Green. You didn’t know?”
My stomach dropped. “Know what?”
