Page 114

When she wraps it with a bandage, she steps back. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

“It’s fine. I was just focused on the lemons.”

“I’ll go put this back, and I can head upstairs.”

“No, it’s fine. I actually wouldn’t mind the help. There’s quite a bit more prep to do.”

Sadie appears almost relieved that I accepted her invitation. “Then I’ll go put this away, and I’ll be right back.” While she goes into the kitchen, I go to work re-washing and sanitizing the space.

As soon as it’s clean, I dry off the cutting board and place it back on the counter, then set the knife on it and retrieve another lemon.

“What do you need me to do?” she asks as she comes back out into the bar.

“Can you chop some herbs? They’re right there in the little fridge.”

Without responding, she retrieves the herbs and places them on a second cutting board, a few feet from me. Then, she grabs one of the knives in the small block on my bar top and starts cutting like a pro who’s been doing it for years.

How can I get her to open up? How can I help her through this?

“Thanks for letting me help.”

“Not many people would thank someone for putting them to work.”

She smiles, though it doesn’t reach her eyes. “I’ve never really been good at sitting still. When I was a kid, I was always going.”

“Yeah? Doing what?”

“Sports, mostly. Volunteer work.” She sets the chopped herbs aside and starts on another round. “I played lacrosse and did gymnastics.”

“Lacrosse? I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who played that.”

“It was a lot of fun. Until I got hurt. I took a hit and blew out my right knee. After surgery, I focused on volunteering whenever and wherever I could.”

Normally, I don’t need—or want—backstory. I am uninterested in why people do things because the only thing that matters to me is how they act now. But with Sadie, I can’t help but want to know more.

Probably just because of the circumstances.

“I went on a few mission trips with our church, and that was eye-opening.”

“How so?”

“There are so many people out there who need help and can’t get it. Who need to be shown God’s love. I wanted to do so much more.”

God’s love. I don’t know much about that. Faith was never a part of my childhood, and as an adult, all I saw was the ugliness of people. It’s hard to focus on an all-loving God when humanity is deranged.

“You said you are a nanny?”

She nods. “The kids I nanny for are so great. Jericha is thirteen, and...” She trails off, and her hand begins to tremble. “Sorry. The kids I used to nanny for. I⁠—”

I set the knife aside and turn toward her, though my stomach twists at the pain on her face. Is it because she’s been gone so long? Or is this yet another tragedy?

“I’m sorry, I think I’m just tired. I’m going to head up and get some sleep if that’s okay.”

Please don’t go. “Sure. I can bring you some food in about an hour when I eat if you’d like.”

“Nah, I’m still pretty full from breakfast and that coffee. Thanks, though. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.”