I don’t let go. Not as we walk down the stairs to the shop below. Not even when we’re standing on the sidewalk where Macy, Isabel, and Dean are already waiting.
“We’re ready to work,” Macy says the moment she sees Sadie. She holds up a bucket and cleaning supplies. “Just tell us what you need.”
Isabel opens her mouth to say something, but her gaze drops to our joined hands. A smile spreads across her face. It’s the kind that says she’s been waiting for this moment for a long time.
Sadie notices. Her cheeks flush pink, and she slips her hand from mine, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Good morning to you both,” Isabel says, her tone just a little too knowing. She’s still smiling as she waves a rag through the air.
“You all really don’t need to do this. This isn’t your fight,” Sadie says, voice tight.
“Yes, we do,” Isabel says firmly. She glances at me, then back to Sadie. “Mateo told us what happened.Que se jodan, pinches cobardes.This is bullshit, and we’re not letting you deal with it alone.”
We all turn to face the building. The red paint is still there—SLUT, WHORE, WE DON’T WANT YOU HERE, PERVERT—dried on the glass. Accusations that stain.
Dean, he’s like a brother to me, nods. “Besides, I’ve been looking for an excuse to use this ladder. Let’s get to work.”
I watch Sadie’s face as Macy attacks the door with determination, Isabel works on the window, and Dean reaches the higher sections. She’s not crying, but she’s close to tears.
“You okay?” I ask quietly.
She nods. “I just... I didn’t expect this.”
“People care about you, Sadie. More than you think.”
She looks up at me, and there’s something in her expression—gratitude mixed with disbelief—that makes my chest ache. Like she still can’t believe people showed up for her.
“Mateo, can you grab the other bucket?” Macy calls out.
The moment breaks. Sadie blinks, steps back, and I force myself to turn away from her and focus on the task at hand.
“Yeah,” I call back, grabbing the bucket and bringing it to Macy. When I turn back around, Sadie’s already scrubbing the door with Isabel.
“The community center commissioned it. A Southwest landscape with wildflowers and the Red Rock Cliffs. I can’t wait to see how it comes out. I’ve been working on it every evening after work,” Isabel says. “Well, as long as Ryan isn’t—“ She stops herself, shakes her head. “Anyway, it’s coming along.”
Sadie glances at her. “As long as Ryan isn’t what?”
“Nothing. He just likes it when I’m home to make dinner.” Isabel scrubs harder at the paint. “It’s fine. The mural will get done in time.”
There’s something in her voice that makes my hands still on the rag. But I don’t push. Not here. Not now.
“Oh, and you should see the new bottle opener designs Mateo’s been working on,” Isabel adds, redirecting her conversation. “Copper inlaid handles shaped like cactus flowers. They’re gorgeous.”
“Those sound amazing,” Sadie says, pausing to wipe sweat from her forehead. Even the morning sun can be surprisingly warm.
“They’d make gorgeous display hooks for the shop. You could hang tote bags, bookmarks, all those little extras readers love,” Isabel adds. “You should ask him to make you a set.”
“I couldn’t,” Sadie says quickly. “He’s already spent so much time helping me. I don’t want to take up even more of it.”
Isabel glances at me, then back to Sadie, a smile playing at her lips. “Trust me, Sadie. Mateo doesn’t mind spending time on the things or people he cares about.”
I grab a rag and start working on the window beside them, pretending I don’t notice Isabel’s tone or the way Sadie’s cheeks flush pink again.
As the morning sun rises higher in the sky, the paint slowly comes off. Some sections are easier to remove than others.
Macy keeps apologizing until Sadie tells her one more “I’m sorry” and she’s fired.
“You can’t fire me,” Macy says. “I’m too useful.”
