Page 13 of Innocence


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Standing, I got my thoughts together as coffee aromas wafted through the air. First, I’d wander the town and see who was hiring. From there, I’d decide where to go first. Seeing all the familiar stores brought a smile to my face.

I was home. And with any luck, I would be employed.

“I’m sorry, London, but we’re not hiring,” Marion Fisk said as she gave me a sympathetic look and patted her flour-coated apron.

This was the third rejection I’d gotten. I glanced over to the Help Wanted sign. The sign clearly indicated she was hiring, like the other two jobs I inquired about.

Marion owned the bakery. She’d known my family forever . . . so had Bob at the lumber store and Gwinnett at the doctor’s office.

“Mrs. Fisk, can you be honest with me?” Marion wasn’t correcting me. Before I left, she always insisted I called her by Marion not Mrs. Fisk.

Something was wrong. No one asked the normal conversational questions. The town may have been physically familiar, but the residents were different. Or maybe different only toward me. Deep down I knew what was happening. I’d feared it with Guin being a small town.

“I’ll try, London.”

I sat at the nearby table as Marion walked around the counter. “Why can’t you hire me? Is something going on that I don’t know about? Please tell me.”

I figured I would be somewhat estranged from the community as I proved myself, but this was more extreme than I was expecting.

Marion looked at the door nervously before sitting in the chair opposite me. We were alone in the shop. No one could see us from this table with the huge display of cakes behind us. “London, I can’t hire you. And I doubt anyone will in this town. Someone is doing a damn good job of making sure that happens. It’s like you’ve been blacklisted.”

Blacklisting me? The blood drained from my face. I rubbed my sweaty palms on my jeans. “Who? Is it the Graves?”

The Graves owned most of the town buildings that people rented. They were powerful and well connected.

“The note didn’t specify. I’ll lose my lease—my income. Your family means the world to me, but I can’t risk my business.” Marion looked around again and lowered her voice. “London, please be careful.”

Be careful? A sour taste entered my mouth. Barely above a whisper, I asked, “What do you mean?”

“Is there anywhere else you can go, away from Guin?” Her hand touched mine.

The words spun in my head.

Leave?

Now?

After all this time?

“I don’t understand.” The words were sandpaper in my mouth.

“Someone or maybe it’s more than one. I don’t know. I had a note under my door. The note stated I had to destroy it after I read it or they would take everything from me. I know the right thing to do is go to the authorities, but I can’t take the risk. I’m so sorry. I shredded the letter as soon as I read it.” There was pure terror in her voice. Bob and Gwinnett were nervous while I was in their shop this morning too.

I grabbed her hand. “Don’t take a risk because of me. You have your granddaughter to think about. She still lives with you, right?”

Marion’s daughter died of cancer seven years ago. She was the sole provider to her grandchild, Ingrid.

“You have always been a special girl. I’m so sorry.”

I stood, having a feeling I shouldn’t linger. “Thank you for telling me. Tell Ingrid I said hello. I always enjoyed watching her. ”

“Thank you, London. I will. I wish you the best.”

I left in a daze as she opened the door for me, sending a message for anyone watching. Why hadn’t I asked exactly what the letter said? I wanted to go back, but knew I shouldn’t.

Marion’s warnings. What did they mean? Was someone out to hurt me? People walked past me whispering as they stared. Now that I thought about it, no one said anything to me while I walked through town this morning. I had been lost in my head, not thinking about pleasantries as I searched out jobs.

How had I missed this?

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