A godly woman. That's all I've ever been expected to be. Quiet. Obedient. Forgiving to a fault.
Well, I'm done being that woman.
I pull my phone from my pocket. Fourteen missed calls from Gerald. Eight from my mother. One voicemail from Derek that I delete without listening to.
Then I power off the phone and shove it to the bottom of my bag.
Tomorrow I'll figure out what comes next. Tonight, I just need to breathe.
A knock at my door makes me jump.
I cross the room on bare feet, half expecting to find Max on the other side with another lecture about how I shouldn't be here.
Instead, it's a woman about my age with honey blonde hair and a smile that could light up a room.
"Hi! I'm Sarah." She holds up a basket covered with a checkered cloth. "Miguel's wife. Well, technically we're still newlyweds, so I love saying that. Anyway, Carol mentioned you just got in, and I figured you might be hungry."
I blink at her, momentarily thrown by the warmth radiating off this stranger.
"I... thank you?"
"Can I come in? I promise I'm not a serial killer. Just aggressively friendly." She grins. "It's a small town thing. You'll get used to it."
Before I can respond, she's breezing past me into the room, setting the basket on the small table by the window.
"Maggie's meatloaf," she announces, pulling back the cloth to reveal containers of food. "Best in three counties. Also mashed potatoes, green beans, and a slice of apple pie that I may have stolen from my husband's plate when he wasn't looking."
My stomach growls loudly, reminding me that I haven't eaten since a gas station granola bar somewhere in Wyoming.
Sarah's grin widens. "I'll take that as a thank you."
She settles into one of the chairs like she belongs there, and something about her easy confidence makes me want to trust her. It's been so long since I've had a friend. A real friend who wasn't connected to the church, to Derek, to the life I'm running from.
"How did you know I was here?" I ask, sinking into the chair across from her.
"Small town." She shrugs. "Carol texted Maggie, Maggie mentioned it to Wren, Wren told me. The whole communication chain took about twelve minutes."
"That's terrifying."
"That's Grizzly Ridge." She tilts her head, studying me with eyes that are sharper than her bubbly demeanor suggests. "So. You're the girl who showed up at Max's shop."
My cheeks heat. "Word travels fast."
"Like wildfire." Sarah leans forward, elbows on her knees. "Listen, I don't know you yet, but I know Max. Or at least, I know the man my husband considers family. He's been through hell, Claire. More than most people could survive."
"I know."
"Do you?" Her voice softens. "Because the man who walked you to this inn looked like he'd seen a ghost. And I'm guessing that ghost has something to do with you."
I look down at my hands. The silver rings on my fingers catch the lamplight.
"My father was his best friend," I say quietly. "He died when I was thirteen. Max was there. And then he wasn't."
Sarah is quiet for a long moment.
"He doesn't talk about his past," she finally says. "But Miguel says whatever happened overseas broke something in him. Something that's still healing."
"I didn't come here to hurt him."
