Page 5 of Hiss and Tell
I heave a breath, and it’s only when I listen to myself that I realize my breathing is as quavery as Milo’s.
“I, uh, understand. We’ll just… we’ll find something else to do during that time slot.”
“I’m so sorry, Ms. Walker.” He shuffles some papers on his desk, not quite meeting my eyes. “If there was anything I could do, I would.”
“Right. Thank you.” Standing up feels like admitting defeat. “I should go collect Milo.”
“Ms. Walker?” Something in his tone makes me pause at the door. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry about your ex’s cancellation. Milo talks about him often during storytime.”
The kindness in his voice nearly breaks me. “Yeah, well. Something came up. Something always comes up.”
“Would you like me to speak with Milo? Sometimes children find it easier to process disappointment when—”
“No, thank you. We’ll be fine. We always are.” The handle turns under my grip. “I really am sorry about the disruption.”
“I know.” His voice follows me out. “I hope to see you both back in three months.”
A quick glance at the storytime circle tells me most of the yoga moms and their kids are gone—thankfully. Milo sits cross-legged by the dinosaur books, Super Steggy’s cape now serving as a tissue.
“Come on, Bug.” Somehow, I keep my voice gentle. “Let’s go home.”
He doesn’t take my offered hand. Doesn’t skip or chatter as we walk out. Just clutches his dinosaur and tries to be brave, like his mama taught him.
The library doors close behind us with a quiet click that sounds like everything falling apart.
At least one good thing happens. On our walk home, I get a text from Radcliffe and Associates. It begins and ends with apologies in all caps. The CEO had an emergency and had to postpone. That’s lucky, because there was no way I’d be able to keep my composure during the meeting. This way, I’ll be in shape to wow them when we do meet.
I just need to weather this crisis before that happens.
Chapter Four
Sebastian
The library feels hollow after they leave. My snakes droop slightly, sharing my distress, and Evangeline—the most empathetic of them—nuzzles against my ear in comfort. The children’s section gradually returns to its normal rhythm, but the echo of Milo’s quiet sniffles lingers.
Something about Aspen Walker unsettles me in ways I never expected. It’s not just the fierce protectiveness in her eyes when she defended Milo, or the way she held herself together even as her voice cracked with disappointment. There’s something else—a warmth when she looked at me with gratitude, like she truly saw me as someone helpful rather than intimidating. My snakes noticed it too, the way several of them had started to rise toward her before catching themselves. I tell myself it’s just professionalconcern for a library family, but the hollow feeling in my chest suggests something more complicated.
“Well, I never!” Mrs. Randall approaches my desk, pearls still clutched dramatically. “In all my years on the library board—”
“Thank you for your concern.” My voice stays measured, calm. It has to. My sanctuary effect only works when I maintain control. It’s one of the gifts—or curses, depending on who you ask—of being a male Gorgon. The ability to create spaces of perfect calm, to ease troubled minds without them even knowing why they suddenly feel safer. Most days it’s subtle, just a gentle undercurrent in my corner of the library. But when emotions run high, like today, it takes real effort to keep it from flooding the whole building.
“The situation has been handled according to policy.”
She puffs up further, reminding me of an agitated pigeon. “But surely—”
“Mrs. Randall.” Keeping my movements slow and deliberate, I stand to my full height. Most days, I try to minimize my size, to make myself less intimidating. It’s not true shapeshifting—I can’t change my actual height—but I can alter my posture, the way I hold my shoulders, how much space I claim.
The difference between standing at my full six-foot-eight with shoulders back versus hunching down can make me seem almost a foot taller. Sometimes it comes in handy.
“I believe the Romance section just received several romantasies you’ve been waiting for.”
The deflection works. She hurries off, already forgetting her outrage in favor of fictional drama. If only real-life problems could be solved as easily as redirecting an upset board member.
As I gather the scattered storytime cushions, my snakes shift restlessly. They’re more attuned to others’ emotions than I am, and they picked up on both Milo’s distress and his mother’s carefully contained panic. My sanctuary effect kicked in automatically a moment after her unfortunate outburst, trying to calm the situation. But she’d already left before it could really help her or her son.
“Mr. Sebastian?” A small voice interrupts my thoughts. Tyler, Milo’s best friend, holds up a red towel. “Milo forgot Steggy’s cape.”
The soggy item dangles limply from my hands. “Thank you, Tyler. I’ll make sure he gets it back.”
