Page 24 of The Lilac River

As Howard Keel started singing again, I headed toward my office.

Thinking about cupcakes.

And Lily fucking Jones.

Chapter 9

Someone You loved – Lewis Capaldi

Lily

My nerves were jangling.

Twenty-four hours until the school doors opened, and a horde of overexcited, under-stimulated kids stormed back from summer break.

It wasn’t teaching them I was worried about—I loved that part. I loved the way a child’s eyes lit up when they figured something out for the first time. The joy of watching confidence bloom. That was magic.

No, what haunted me was whether they’dlikeme. Whether they’d go home and tell their parents I was boring or mean or worse, forgettable. I wasn’t usually a needy person. But the first day of school always stripped me bare, exposed the tender, bruised places I kept hidden.

All I wanted was for some kid to go home and say, "Wow, Miss. Gray is awesome."

Mom always tried to make me believe in myself. But doubt? Doubt was persistent. And maybe that was why it had been soeasy to believe Nash would one day look at me and realize he was too good for me. Because deep down, I never believed I was enough.

It didn’t help that Mom and Grandma were gone for the day, supposedly shopping for Grandma. Though, considering the way Mom had chased me around the living room earlier with a tape measure, I had a strong suspicion I’d end up with some new underwear and a couple of guilt sweaters.

I should’ve been fine. I had activities and lessons planned for a month. Color-coded folders, themed icebreakers, and twenty-eight sharpened pencils in a ceramic mug. Being prepared wasn’t the problem.

Belief was and I needed to destress to avoid a meltdown before school had even started.

The weather was good, so I decided to sit outside with a book. Let the fresh air chase the tension out of my bones.

I was almost at the patio door when a loud, sharp banging made me jump.

Maybe a delivery. Maybe...

Nash.

I froze mid-step, heart suddenly hammering against my ribs. What would I even say to him? I wasn’t ready to see him again, not with that look of poison he’d given me still seared into my brain.

Another round of loud knocks made me flinch.

Then a voice.

Sharp.

Cold.

Male.

"I know you’re in there."

Not Nash.

Worse.

Mayor Miller.

Fear slithered down my spine.

---