“The best.”
My chest aches.
Darren appears near the cocoa stand as we pass, Vanessa tucked against his side. His smile thins when he sees Jillie on Colby’s shoulders.
“Sadie,” he says.
I keep walking. For once, I do not stop to be polite. For once, I do not shrink.
Colby slows just enough to look at me. Not asking. Not pushing. Just noticing.
I lift my chin.
We keep walking.
Jillie waves at the giant illuminated snowflake hanging over Main Street. Colby salutes it solemnly. She laughs so hard she nearly loses her hat.
That is the exact moment a flash goes off.
I turn.
A tourist stands near the cider booth, her phone raised, and her eyes wide with excitement. Another person lifts their camera. Then another.
My stomach drops.
Colby notices too.
His jaw tightens, but his voice stays calm. “Do you want me to put her down?”
Jillie is still laughing. She has no idea. I look at her face, bright and happy for the first time since those women spoke.
“Not yet,” I say.
So, Colby keeps walking.
And for five more minutes, I let my daughter feel tall enough to see over the whole town.
By the time he lowers her carefully near my bakery booth, Jillie’s cheeks are pink and her smile has returned full force.
“Thank you,” I tell him.
He dusts imaginary snow off his coat. “I take festival inspection very seriously.”
Jillie beams. “You can come inspect cookies anytime.”
“Dangerous offer.”
I should laugh.
Instead, I notice his phone buzzing. Again. And again. And again.
He checks the screen.
His expression shifts so quickly I almost miss it.
The softness disappears beneath something guarded.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
