“Of course you can. That’s five dollars altogether.” Lily exchanged the treats for the cash, tucking the bill into the lockbox with the rest of the money she’d collected. They were doing well, and Lily knew that this month’s charity—Project Fierce—would do a lot of good with the funds they’d raised.
At least she’d done one good thing today.
The bell for the end of the period rang, and Lily swapped places with Macie and Sara, who carried boxes filled to the brim with cakes to replenish their supply.
“Are you two okay setting up?” Lily said, glancing at her watch. She had a class to teach in three minutes.
“Yep. Thanks, Miss Cross. We’ll let you know how much we made on Thursday!”
Lily hurried off, weaving through the busy halls of the main building and arriving at her classroom—if slightly out of breath—right on time.
She caught a glimpse of Eva at the other end of the hall just before she stepped inside. She looked relaxed, so Alisha must not have given her the good news yet.
Lily didn’t want to be around when she did find out.
But it couldn’t be that bad, right? It wasn’t like they’d be alone. They might not even have to spend that long together.
It’d be fine.
* * *
Knuckles rapped gently on her door, and Eva was unsurprised to see Alisha standing there.
“Sorry.” Alisha looked weary as she leaned against the door frame. “I wanted to catch you this morning, but I haven’t stopped all day. Have you got time for a quick meeting?”
“Of course.” Eva set aside the papers she’d been grading and motioned for Alisha to take a seat. “Long day?”
“Part of me is regretting coming back,” Alisha said, all but collapsing into a seat on Eva’s front bench. “But it’s nice to have a distraction.”
“Still no change in your dad?” They’d been in frequent contact while Alisha had been off. Eva had wanted to make sure she was keeping on top of everything she was supposed to.
“Not really. They’re not sure if he’ll ever be able to walk again.”
Eva cast her mind back two years to when she and her mother had heard those words for the first time. She remembered the uncertainty, the worry, the panic over what would happen next, how they would possibly adapt, now their lives had been irrevocably changed.
She’d had no one to lean on for support at the time. Eva hadn’t wanted to put the burden on her mother, not when she was busy mourning the loss of the life she was used to. It wouldn’t have been fair, so she’d shouldered it herself.
Eva had made it a habit not to reveal her personal life at work, and in two years, she’d never—willingly—broken that rule. But she decided, looking into Alisha’s tired eyes, this would be a worthy exception.
“My mother’s in a wheelchair,” Eva said, focusing her gaze on the papers on her desk so she didn’t have to see Alisha’s surprise. “Has been for two years now. She has MS, so it’s not the same—she still has some mobility when she’s having a good spell. But I know how difficult it can be.”
“I had no idea.”
“No one does. If you ever need any advice or support, I’d be happy to lend a helping hand.”
“Thank you, Eva.” Alisha’s voice swelled with gratitude. “Is that why you left Georgetown?”
“Yes.” Eva glanced away from her notes and tried not to shrink beneath the weight of Alisha’s gaze. This was why she didn’t tell people. They looked at her differently. Like they felt sorry for her. Like they understood her.
She hated it.
“I’d appreciate it if you kept that information to yourself.”
“I will,” Alisha said, and Eva had no reason to doubt her sincerity.
Eva cleared her throat, eager to change the subject. “Now. What do you want to talk about first?”
“God, where to start?” Alisha glanced down at the notebook in her hands. “Shall we go through the performance reviews?”
