“See you later,” Blake said as he continued to the back where his friends were playing pool. I turned the envelope over to see it addressed to me from Organic Certifiers of Stonebridge. I sliced through the top and tore the paper out.
As I scanned it, my jaw dropped.
We are pleased to inform you that Hoffman Farm has passed their certification and will be awarded the official organic seal…
I continued reading down the page until I reached the date. This had been posted three days ago, which meant Sydney had submitted our results before knowing if there was a way out of this for her. Why hadn’t she told me?
Because she thought I wouldn’t listen.
“Well, congrats on the certification,” Jake said, looking over my shoulder. “It seems that Sydney—"
“Thanks,” I said, cutting him off. “I gotta go.” I threw some money on the bar top and ran back to my truck, thoughts swimming through my head as I drove toward my house.
As I entered the kitchen, I realized Sydney’s broken camera was still on the counter. I lifted it and put it in my bag for tomorrow.
I was going to fix that and everything else by tomorrow.
I was going to get her back.
The next morning, I was up bright and early as always. I started by stopping by my parents, which surprised my mom since I hadn’t been there in a while.
“Sorry, I’ve been a bit busy.”
She nodded and smiled but didn’t push the subject. Maybe because she saw Sydney was not with me. “I saw the audit came back. How did we do?”
I smiled lightly at her. “We got it.”
She took me into her arms, squeezing me tightly. “I knew you could do it. You’ve done such amazing work since taking over. I’m so proud of you.”
I squeezed her back. I knew I had all their support all the time, but this kind of validation felt really good.
When I pulled away, I asked, “Is Bridget still here?”
Mom nodded. “Yeah, but you know she’s not used to farm life anymore. She’s fast asleep.”
“That’s fine. I just need her for a sec.”
“Okay, but will you be staying for breakfast?”
“Not today,” I said. “I have something to do.”
“Okay. I’ll have a sandwich ready for you when you come back down.”
I thanked her and headed up the stairs to my sister’s old room. My parents hadn’t changed anything about the house since we all moved out, so everyone’s room was still exactly how it had been when we were eighteen.
I knocked on her door for at least two minutes before it cracked open, and a very pissed-off Bridget stood on the other side.
“What?” she asked sharply.
“I need your help,” I said, cutting right to the chase.
“Does it need to happen at this ungodly hour?”
“It does.”
She sighed but opened her door to let me in. It was just as I remembered. Though all our walls were white, you could barely see hers under all of the peeling band posters and random magazine covers she’d stuck up everywhere. Everything else was black, from her comforter to her desk chair.
She sat on the edge of the bed, crossing her hooves. “What do you need?”
