Some part of her—the part she’d been trying to silence for four years, the part that had caught Brent in his lie and kicked him out of the house, the part of her that was not broken and had never been broken—had said,Read them first.
Thank God she’d listened to that voice.
She stood at the sink until the nausea passed.Washed her face with cold water.Dried it on the kitchen towel that saidBless This Messin cheerful red letters.
She made coffee.The ancient coffeemaker gurgled and spat grounds into the carafe because of course it did.One of these days she was going to throw the wretched thing out the window.
She sat back down at the table and drank coffee that tasted like motor oil and betrayal and waited for the sun to come up.
She got Cassidy and Noah ready for school on autopilot.Made lunches.Signed a permission slip.Reminded Noah that socks were not optional.Located Cassidy’s library book under the couch cushion where it had no business being.
Noah appeared in the kitchen with his question notebook.“Mom, if a building is on fire and there’s no water, can you put it out with milk?”
“I don’t know, Sweetheart.Ask Gray next time you see him.”
“I wrote it down.”He held up the notebook proudly.It was getting thick with entries.“I’m on page fourteen.”
“Impressive.”
“Mom?”
“Hmm?”
“You look tired.”
“I didn’t sleep great last night.”
“Was it the sugar cube thing?I still think about that sometimes.”
Despite everything, a laugh escaped her.“No, Honey.It wasn’t the sugar cube thing.”
Cassidy was watching her from the doorway.Her daughter had her backpack on and her coat zipped, and she was holding two granola bars.One for herself, one she extended toward Bonnie with the wordless authority of a child who had taken over the feeding of her own mother.
“Thank you,” Bonnie said without bothering to hide her chagrin as she took the bar.
Cassidy’s gaze lingered on her face.“Did something happen?”
“Just a rough night.I’m fine.”
Cassidy studied her for two more seconds, then nodded and went to put on her boots.But she didn’t pull out her observation notebook before she left for school, and she didn’t mention Gray’s name once.Which told Bonnie her nine-year-old had shifted from matchmaker to bodyguard without being asked.
She walked them to the bus.Cassidy paused on the steps, the way she always did, and turned back.
“Eat the granola bar,” her daughter ordered.
“I will.”
“And something else.Something that’s actually food.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Cassidy pointed her bossy finger at her.“I’m checking when I get home.”
The bus door closed, and her children were gone.
She went back inside, ate the granola bar because she’d promised, and drove to work.
The mayor’s office smelled the way it always did.Coffee.Printer toner.The faint ghost of Lucas’s cigars, which he’d supposedly given up per doctor’s orders but still smoked on the sly.There was simply no way to keep the odor out of his clothes, and he didn’t notice the smell.
