Page 59 of The Persistence of Thornes
Once I’ve climbed the stairs, I discover her in the place I should have looked first. She’s sitting in front of the computer in my office, fingers flying furiously over the keyboard.
“Hey, what are you doing?”
“Working,” she replies without looking up. “Need to send out a few more emails this afternoon.”
“Halle.” The carpeted floor silences my steps as I get closer. I lean against the desk, crossing my arms over my chest.
She ignores me.
“Halle. Look at me.”
Her fingers slow and she looks up, her expression shuttered.
“You realize I’m your boss, right?”
With a huff, she rolls her eyes.
It takes effort to keep from smiling. God, I love her sass.
“I’m aware, yes.”
“Do you really think I expected you to come back in here and work after that?”
“No.” She lowers her focus to her hands, which are still poised over the keyboard. “But I needed to.”
With a finger beneath her chin, I tilt her head up. “Why?”
“To distract myself,” she admits. Her shoulders sag with a weariness she shouldn’t possess at her age.
The response doesn’t surprise me at all. What does is how easily she fessed up to it.
I sit on the edge of the desk, tugging at my pant leg when it strains against my knee. “I think we should talk about it.”
“Ugh.” She covers her face with her hands. “You’re right, but I don’t want to.”
“What happened when you went into the school?”
She heaves a heavy sigh, her chest expanding, then falling dramatically, then shoves her fingers through her long dark hair and secures it with an elastic band from her wrist like she often does when she’s working.
“The principal was nice enough, but he told me that they’ve had other incidents already. He just hadn’t reported them to me, hoping they could sort it out at school. But leave it to the chaos twins to not take it seriously.”
She drops her arms to the desk and buries her face in them, letting out a muffled scream.
“I’m sorry you’re getting dragged into this mess.”
Amusement courses through me. “I’m pretty sure I dragged myself into it, but whatever you need to tell yourself.”
She cracks a small smile.
“So I know about the snake, but what else have they done?”
“They stole the principal’s nameplate from his door.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Seems pretty trivial to me.”
Her body deflates. “And they stole paint from the art class. It hasn’t turned up yet, so who knows what they’ve done with that.” She tosses her hands in the air. “Caleb.” My name is a small whimper, a plea, and fuck if I wish she wasn’t saying it under very different circumstances. Head lowered again, she sniffles. “I don’t think I can do this.”
“Hey,” I crouch in front of her and angle in until she meets my eye. “Parenting isn’t easy. For anyone. I can guarantee every parent has days they want to quit. But you’re exactly what those boys need. You hear me?”
