No answer.
She knocked again, louder this time, and then remembered: Annabelle was a teacher. She'd have left for school already.
Of course she had. It was a Thursday morning. Normal people with normal jobs went to work on Thursday mornings.
Raven stood on the doorstep feeling like an idiot, then turned and walked back to her own cottage.
Fine. She'd try again later. In the evening, when Annabelle was home. She'd apologize properly, explain what happened, and hope to God that Annabelle didn't hate her.
Though, honestly, at this point, Raven wouldn't blame her if she did.
THE DAY DRAGGED on longer and longer.
Raven tried to write, but every time she picked up her guitar, all she could think about was Annabelle's face on that video. The way she'd smiled even while asking Raven to keep the noise down. The way she'd apologized for bothering her.
The way Raven had just stood there like a complete idiot, barely said two words, and then shut the door.
She should have remembered the phone was still recording. Should have been paying attention. Should have done literally anything other than what she'd actually done.
By the time five o'clock rolled around, Raven had worked herself into a state of low-level panic.
What if Annabelle did go to the press? What if she was furious and just hiding it behind that relentless politeness? What if Raven had completely ruined any chance of having a peaceful existence in this village?
She forced herself to wait until half past five, surely that was a reasonable time for someone to be home from work, and then went next door again.
This time, Annabelle answered on the second knock.
She was still wearing her school clothes: a cheerful yellow cardigan over a floral dress, and she had a pencil tucked behind one ear. When she saw Raven, her face lit up with that same bright smile.
"Oh! Hello!"
Raven's carefully rehearsed apology evaporated from her brain.
"Hi. Um, can I come in? I need to talk to you about something."
"Of course." Annabelle stepped back, opening the door wider. "Come in, come in. I've just put the kettle on. Would you like tea?"
"I… yeah, sure. Thanks." Raven followed her inside.
The interior of the cottage was exactly what she'd thought it would be: cozy, cluttered with books and plants, and smelling faintly of biscuits and lavender. There were children's drawings stuck to the fridge with magnets, and a pile of marking on the kitchen table.
"Sit, sit." Annabelle gestured to the table, already bustling around the kitchen to fetch mugs. "Sugar? Milk?"
"Just black, thanks." Raven sat, feeling more uncomfortable by the second. "Listen, Annabelle, I need to—"
"I saw the video!" Annabelle said brightly, setting a mug in front of her. "Well, Nina showed it to me at lunch. The children thought it was hilarious."
Raven's stomach dropped. "The children saw it?"
"Oh, only a few of them. Some of the parents follow you, apparently, and they showed their kids. Some of them don’t have social media, they’re a bit young." Annabelle sat down across from her, cradling her own mug. "Jamie Long asked if you were really my neighbor, and I said yes, and he got very excited. He's a big fan, apparently."
"I…" Raven had no idea what to say to that. "Annabelle, I'm really sorry. I had no idea the phone was still recording. I mean, I knew, but I’d forgotten, and… well, then you knocked on the door."
"It's fine!" Annabelle said, waving a hand. "Really, it's no trouble."
"It's not fine. I violated your privacy. You didn't consent to being filmed, and now you're all over social media in your pajamas."
"The dinosaur ones!" Annabelle laughed. "My class from last year gave them to me for my birthday. They're very proud that I was wearing them on a famous person's Instagram."
