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Prologue

Six months ago…

I’m late, dammit!

Currently, that was the least of Imogene Peppercorn’s problems. The real challenge was the balancing act of holding a large tray of cupcakes in one hand while trying to maintain control of her umbrella in the other. The gale force winds weren’t working in her favor with rain pelting her in the face.

This is not how I wanted to start my morning. She was a firm believer in beginning each day on a positive note. It set the tone for the entire day. And if that was the case…I’m doomed.

Imogene was only a few feet from the entrance of the prison when her foot landed in a huge puddle, soaking her shoe instantly. She cursed under her breath and quickened her steps. The only saving grace was Ed, the front door security guard. Even through the sheets of rain coming down, she saw him jump up from his chair, round the desk, and rush to the door, opening it wide.

“You picked a hell of a day for baking.”

I know.

But honestly, she hadn’t chosen anything. It was strictly by chance she’d even known there was a reason to celebrate, not discovering it until four in the morning. Again, not how I wanted to start my day.

She didn’t usually check her email before work, but due to a severe bout of insomnia, she found herself at her computer looking for anything to kill time. When she’d seen the message announcing upcoming releases, she’d clicked on the link. The two names caught her off guard. She hadn’t even realized their time served was coming to an end. She’d slumped in her seat, staring at the screen, and an unexpected wave of disappointment hit her like a ton of bricks. It was selfish on her end. Of course, it was a reason to celebrate. They were getting out. This was good news. For them.

The Pierce cousins were being released the following day in the early hours of the morning. Imogene had a vested interest in all her students whom she’d assisted at the prison library and taught in several classes. But Zane and Xander Pierce had been different. Special. At least to Imogene.

A lot of inmates who participated had an ulterior motive. And I get it. The monotonous daily routine of prison life would drive most people stir-crazy. Taking a class broke up the day, gave them a different view from the concrete walls and bars. But it didn’t motivate everyone to actually take it seriously. That’s where Zane and Xander were different. They’d scored the highest, participated when prompted, and always answered correctly. My star students. She would’ve reflected more, but time was of the essence this morning.

She’d quickly shut down her computer and raced to her kitchen, surveying the contents of her pantry. It was the second disappointment of the day. She didn’t have much to work with. Had she had more time, she would’ve made something from scratch. Imogene wasn’t exactly a baker extraordinaire, but she enjoyed it and was complimented on most desserts she made. But? A box of chocolate cake mix, vanilla icing, and rainbow sprinkles would have to do.

“Whatever it is” —Ed smiled— “smells good.”

“Cupcakes.”

“My favorite.”

Ed took the container of sweets from her hands, and she shook out her umbrella, storing it in the rack of the vestibule. She ripped off her hood. It was the wrong move. The water pooled on her head dripped down, soaking her hair and plastering it against her face. I’m a mess. Her raincoat, boots, and umbrella had been no match against this storm.

She retrieved the container from Ed. “Thanks.”

He smiled and gestured toward the door, opening it before she had a chance to grab the handle. He, along with most of the staff, had always been friendly with her. Ed, more so. On several occasions, he’d even asked her out. While he was nice and funny, good-looking in a boy next door type of way, Imogene wasn’t interested. It had nothing to do with him and everything to do with her chaotic life. Nobody wanted to take that on. I don’t even want it.

Ed rounded the counter, and she set the container on the wobbly desk near the metal detectors. She shrugged off her raincoat and pocketbook, laying them on the table. This had been her routine three days a week for the last eighteen months. Initially, when she’d started volunteering at the prison, she’d been assigned to the library. It was a perfect fit. As time went on and there was a need for teachers, she took on more responsibility, teaching some basic classes and a GED program. That was the one she was most proud of. For the first time in the prison’s history, all eleven of the students who had started the program graduated with high school diplomas. They’d even held a ceremony. Only nine participated. Two opted out.

She glanced up at the clock and muttered under her breath, “Dammit.”

Ed looked up from her purse, which he’d been searching. She forced a smile. Imogene was too polite for her own good. It would’ve been rude to ask him to hurry up when her tardiness had been her own fault. Why does it take so long for cupcakes to cool enough for icing?

“Teacher late for class?” he teased, and this time she genuinely smiled.

He pushed through her bag and quickly patted down her coat before opening the container of cupcakes. He glanced up, arching his brow.

“For the staff?”

“No, my students.” She held up her hand. “Norman pre-approved it at five o’clock this morning.”

Ed chuckled. “That must’ve been a fun call. I’ve heard he’s not a morning person.”

She flattened her lips. No, he’s not. Norman, her supervisor and in charge of all the volunteers, had been less than thrilled with the wakeup call. But after rushing through her spiel, she was granted permission to bring in the desserts. Imogene suspected he might’ve only agreed to get her off the phone so he could go back to bed. Whatever it was, it had worked.

“Is there just enough, or did you make extra?” Ed asked, eyeing the cupcakes.

This specific class only had fourteen students.