He nodded once.
“But,” she added, her tone giving nothing away, “showing up anyway? Even when no one’s watching? That’s something.”
Daniel looked at her.
“It’s not enough,” she told him. “But it’s a start.”
And then she walked off, leaving him alone with the folding chairs and the weight of everything he still needed to become.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Hannah
THE EVENT WAS already teetering on disaster.
Hannah could feel it unraveling, the careful threads she had woven into place slipping between her fingers. The community center was packed—volunteers, local families, elderly guests. The room buzzed with conversation, kids darting between tables, seniors seated in a circle sharing stories.
On the surface, it looked fine. Good, even.
But Hannah knew better.
The food delivery was late. The guest speaker had canceled at the last minute. The tables were set up wrong. And she was missing three volunteers—three—who had texted last-minute apologies that left her grinding her teeth.
She tried to keep the panic down.
She had handled worse.
She could fix this.
She was standing near the registration table, phone clutched in her hand, scanning the room for solutions when she saw him.
Her first instinct was to pretend she hadn’t seen him. The second was to scream. The third—terrifyingly—was relief.
Daniel. He was here.Again.
He hadn’t said he would be. Hadn’t reached out. But there he was, standing near the back, hands in his pockets, watching.
Hannah’s pulse jumped, a mixture of frustration and something she refused to name tightening in her chest.
She turned away, inhaling sharply.Not now. Not today.
“Okay,” she murmured to herself, pressing a hand to her forehead. “I just need—”
“I got it.”
The voice came from behind her, low, steady.
Hannah froze.
She turned slowly.
Daniel stood there, close enough that she could see the lines of exhaustion on his face, the quiet steadiness in his eyes.
“What?” she asked warily.
He held up a hand. “The food. I handled it. It’ll be here in ten minutes.”
Hannah blinked. “How—”