Her fingers brushed mine when she took it.
She signed slowly. Her handwriting was still tidy, even with dirt on her wrist.
I added my signature beneath hers, then looked at the completed sheet for one second longer than I needed to. It was twenty hours, five shifts, and one completed sheet between Daphne and the court side of this place.
I set the pen down.
"You're done, Daphne."
Her breath left her in a rush.
Birdie clapped once from outside. "Congratulations, honey."
Tyler lifted both arms. "You're free."
Gus looked at him. "She was doing community service, not hard time."
"I was being supportive."
"You were being loud."
Daphne laughed, but her eyes stayed on mine. "I'm done."
"With the court hours," I said.
Her smile shifted. "That was specific."
"I'm a specific man."
Birdie appeared in the shed doorway with her basket. "Before anyone gets too specific, Daphne, you should know you're welcome here without a court order."
Daphne turned toward her.
Birdie's face stayed warm, but her eyes were sharp enough to cut twine. "We always need hands. Especially hands that ask before murdering vegetables."
Daphne's throat moved. "Thank you."
Tyler leaned into view behind Birdie. "And I need someone who respects my compost journey."
Daphne wiped under one eye with the heel of her hand. "You need several things, Tyler."
Gus said, "A list would help."
I hung the clipboard on its hook and stepped back before I reached for her in front of all of them.
My phone rang before I could answer Birdie. Fletcher's name lit the screen, and the shed went quiet around it.
Daphne looked at the screen, then at me.
I answered without stepping away. "What?"
Fletcher's voice came through smooth and tight. "We need to talk."
"No."
Daphne's eyebrows lifted, but she stayed beside me.
Fletcher went quiet for half a beat. "I'm at the gate."
