“Both of those sound terrible.”
“Yep. They do.” I pause. “You could do something in between. Make a statement on your own terms. Post something online before the meeting even happens. Control the narrative instead of letting Judith control it.”
She considers that, nodding slowly before turning her nod into a shake of her head. “I hate that she’s the one calling the shots here. Like she gets to decide whether I’m welcome in this town or not.”
“She doesn’t get to decide that. No one does. You’re the one who built a business here. You’re the one who’s been part of this community.” I stand and step over to her. Our eyes meet. “Judith’s just loud. That doesn’t make her right.”
“She’sreallyloud, though.”
“Yeah, she is. Fuck Judith.”
The corner of Sadie’s mouth twitches. It’s not quite a smile, but it’s close.
“I agree. Fuck Judith,” she repeats, testing the words. Then, quieter, with a little more conviction, “Fuck Judith and all her holier-than-thou minions.”
There it is. A real smile. Small, exhausted, but real.
“That’s my girl,” I say without thinking.
The smile wavers, something shifting in her expression I can’t quite read. Surprise, maybe. Or awareness. Her eyes meet mine and hold, and for a second, the air between us feels charged.
Dangerous.
Like we’re balanced on the edge of something that could change everything.
And she doesn’t pull away or correct me. There is no reminder that we’re just friends.
She just looks at me with those wide eyes, and I wonder if she’s finally starting to see what I’ve been trying to show her for five years.
She hasn’t unpacked the boxes, but she’s stopped filling them.
And I’m still here, which is more than I can say for anyone else who’s ever claimed to love her.
If she runs, I’ll let her go. I meant that.
But god, I hope she stays.
CHAPTER 6
I’ve been staring at half-packed boxes for the past hour, since Mateo left around three in the morning and told me to call if I needed anything.
The apartment feels too quiet. Everything is too quiet. Can a crisis really work like that? I’ve only ever known them as loud. That’s how it was when I left home. Yelling, passive-aggressive insults, and direct efforts to make me feel small. Most of that was from my mother. Some from my father. My siblings occasionallyinserted their unwelcomed thoughts and opinions about me, but for the most part, they disengaged and went on with their lives.
This time it’s different.
It’s quiet. Still. The kind that just waits for you to notice the damage.
Even the bookshop downstairs seems to be waiting to see what I’ll do.
I pick up my phone. Jess answers on the first ring despite it being in the middle of the damn night.
“Tell me you’re not packing,” she says.
“I’m looking at boxes.”
“Sadie—“
“I don’t know what to do.” I sink onto the couch, pulling my legs up under me. “Everyone knows now, Jess. The whole town. The whole internet, which is essentially the whole world. Judith Ashford is organizing a mob. Torches. Pitchforks. They want to tar and feather me.”
