She crossed her arms, holding herself together. “I won’t do that to myself again. I’m not going to confuse his protective cop instincts with his actual feelings.”
She looked away, jaw tight. “I won’t be pathetic about this. Not again.”
Eli stepped closer. “Grace.”
She met his eyes.
“You know I’d be the first one to tell you if I thought he was full of shit,” he said.
“And?” she asked.
He gestured vaguely around the house, at the sink that Luke had fixed, at Luke’s tools hanging by the door. “This doesn’t feel like that.”
She shook her head. Her brother was just as naive as she was.
“You don’t owe him forgiveness. Or trust. Or anything, really.”
She waited.
“But,” he continued, “he’s trying.”
Her heart thudded painfully.
“That doesn’t erase the past,” she said. “Luke Bennett is never going to stand up in front of the whole town and announce that he’s with me.”
“Maybe not,” Eli agreed sadly. “But you could still have something with him. He could still make you happy.”
She said nothing.
Eli exhaled. “I’m not telling you to jump into his arms. I’m just saying… maybe don’t barricade the door so hard you can’t hear him knocking.”
Grace looked down at the floor.
Eli stepped forward and wrapped her in a hug. Tight. Familiar. Safe.
“You deserve someone who makes you happy,” he said into her hair. “Whether that’s him or not.”
Her throat burned. She hugged him back.
By ten-thirty,the classroom had lost any pretense of being a classroom.
Paper pumpkins littered the tables. Candy corn rattled inside little plastic cups as the kids practiced counting by twos, threes, and—ambitiously—fives.
“Okay,” Grace said, clapping once. “Remember—markers stay on the paper, not on your neighbor.”
“But it’s thefestivaltomorrow,” Leo protested, bouncing in his seat like his chair was made of springs.
“I know,” Grace said, smiling. “Which is why we’re channeling that energy into very festive math.”
Groans. Laughter. She moved between tables, redirecting, praising, gently herding excitement into something manageable. This was her strength—meeting them where they were, even when they were vibrating with anticipation.
“Miss Hart!” Emma waved her drawing at her. “Look! I made the parade!”
Grace leaned down. “That’s beautiful. I love the pumpkins.”
“And the police car!” Emma added. “My mom says Officer Bennett is gonna lead the parade!”
A chorus erupted instantly.
