Sam gave Fargo one more scratch, then stood up. “He looked…rough, to be honest. Exhausted, mostly. Said he’s been working long hours, trying to keep up with things. He can’t be home much.”
“That poor child,” Schatzi muttered, shaking her head. “She’s practically raising herself.”
“I’ve been thinking a lot about her,” Maddie admitted, resting her hand on the back of the chair across from Schatzi.“She hardly talks when she’s here, but there’s something not right. You can just tell. I can’t help but worry about her.”
“She’s holding something back, that’s for sure,” Sam said, his voice thoughtful. “I’ve seen her around town a few times. She keeps to herself, doesn’t talk to anyone. Barely makes eye contact most of the time.”
Maddie felt a knot tighten in her stomach. She had been in Hannah’s shoes before, carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders without knowing how to ask for help. It was the same knot she had carried after Jack died. The same knot she still felt at times.
“I’ll try talking to her next time she’s here, which I think is tomorrow,” Maddie said quietly. “Maybe she just needs someone to listen.”
Schatzi glanced at Maddie, her expression softening. “You’re good at that, you know. Listening.”
Maddie smiled faintly, though there was a pang in her chest. Listening wasn’t always enough. Sometimes, a person had to act.
The next day, it started snowing again. Lightly. Not nearly enough to keep Hannah away. She showed up as usual, her dark hair hidden beneath a knit beanie, her eyes downcast as she shrugged off her coat. Maddie was in the kitchen, prepping a small roast that would be their dinner, while Schatzi dozed by the fire. Ernie, ever watchful, was curled up in a ball on Schatzi’s lap.
“Hey, Hannah,” Maddie greeted, keeping her tone light and casual. “Glad you could make it.”
Hannah muttered a response, her eyes darting briefly toward Maddie, then to Schatzi, who’d woken up at the sound of the door. “Feeling any better?”
“About the same,” Schatzi answered.
With a nod, Hannah got to work, busying herself with the broom, sweeping the wide wood floorboards with almost mechanical movements.
Maddie chopped up some veggies to go along with the roast, the rhythmic sound of the knife slicing the potatoes into chunks filling the quiet. She kept glancing at Hannah, trying to find an opening, a way to break through the wall the girl had built around herself.
“Hannah,” Maddie said after a few minutes, setting the knife down and wiping her hands on a towel. “Can I ask you something?”
Hannah’s shoulders stiffened slightly, but she didn’t stop sweeping. “What?”
Maddie stepped closer, keeping her voice soft. “Are you okay? I mean, really okay? You seem like something’s bothering you and I just want you to know that if you need to talk to someone…”
Hannah stopped sweeping, the broom frozen mid-motion. She didn’t turn around, didn’t meet Maddie’s eyes, but the tension in her body was palpable. For several seconds, she didn’t say anything, and Maddie was about to retreat, thinking she had pushed too far.
Then, in a voice so quiet Maddie almost didn’t hear it, Hannah whispered, “No. I’m not okay.”
Maddie’s heart twisted. She took a tentative step closer, her voice gentle. “Do you want to talk about it? People tell me I’m pretty good at listening.”
Hannah was silent for another long moment, her shoulders rigid. Slowly, she turned around, her dark eyes glistening with unshed tears.
“I’m...pregnant,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Maddie’s breath caught in her throat. The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of the girl’s confession. A confession Maddie wouldn’t have guessed in a hundred years.
Hannah’s face crumpled, and as she looked down, tears spilled onto her cheeks. “I don’t know what to do,” she choked out. “I don’t want to tell my dad. I can’t. He’s barely home, and when he is, he’s just angry. When he finds out about this, he will freak out.”
Maddie’s heart ached for the girl standing in front of her—so young, so scared, and so alone. She felt a familiar tug of grief, remembering how often she had felt lost after Jack died, not knowing where to turn or who to lean on.
Without thinking, Maddie stepped forward and gently wrapped her arms around Hannah. The girl stiffened at first, but then she crumpled into Maddie’s embrace, her sobs shaking her small frame.
“It’s going to be okay,” Maddie whispered, stroking her hair. “You don’t have to go through this alone.”
For a long time, they stood there, the quiet of the house wrapping around them as Hannah cried into Maddie’s shoulder. Ernie padded over, weaving between their legs as if sensing the significance of what was happening and wanting to help.
When Hannah’s sobs finally subsided, Maddie pulled back slightly, holding the girl at arm’s length. “We’ll figure this out together, okay?”
“Why? You don’t even know me.”
