She’d stood up in front of a room full of cameras and told the truth about who she was. She’d saidI fell in loveandI was wrongandI won’t shrink myselfwith the specific person she’d said it all for sitting in the back row—and now that person wasn’t there. The gallery was full of strangers shaking each other’s hands, and Rachel was near the door with her coat over her arm, and the space where June had been was just a space.
She thought:too late. I did it too late.
Then her phone buzzed against her palm.
I’ll see you at your hotel when you’re done being a hero.
And below it, a second message:
We need to talk. If you’re ready.
Melissa stared at the screen. Something cracked open in her chest—not dramatically, not all at once, just a slow give, like ice in early spring.
I’m ready,she typed back.I’ll be there tonight. However long it takes.
The response came immediately:
I’ll be waiting.
The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur—interviews, strategy sessions, endless handshakes and congratulations. David talked about momentum and the floor vote and favorable press coverage, and Melissa said the right things and meant some of them.
She kept thinking about sunflowers. Planted months ago, now big and strong and blooming. She kept thinking about that, the smallest seed growing tall, and understanding, finally and completely, what she’d actually been fighting for.
Through all of it, she held onto four words like a lifeline.
I’ll be waiting.
For the first time in weeks, she let herself believe it.
Chapter 20
The Hotel Room
June
Thursday, August 13th
She’d set an alarm for six-thirty. She’d driven to Salem in the early morning grey, rehearsing nothing, just driving. She’d slipped into the back of the gallery nine minutes before the session resumed, found Rachel, and sat down behind a man in a rumpled suit and told herself she was just here to know. One way or the other. Just to know.
That was what she’d told herself.
Now she sat in the back row and watched Melissa Brandt do the bravest thing she’d ever seen, and her hands were completely still in her lap.
I fell in love this summer. With a woman.
Rachel’s hand found June’s and squeezed. June couldn’t look away from Melissa—from the way she stood at that witness table, shoulders back, voice steady, telling the truth to a room full of people who could destroy her.
I won’t shrink myself to fit what Thornfield or anyone else expects of me.
That was the line. That was the one. June had asked her for that—not in those words, not explicitly, but that was what she’d meant every time she’d saidfight for me where it counts,every time she’d saidI can’t be the thing you hide.She’d thought Melissa would never say it. She’d stopped believing she would.
She hadn’t noticed she was crying until Rachel pressed a tissue into her hand.
She didn’t remember standing up. She just knew that Melissa was looking up at the gallery, searching, and when their eyes met—
Melissa gave the smallest of nods.
And then chaos erupted, and June couldn’t think anymore.
