She opened her mouth to answer but before she could, the mayor’s voice boomed from somewhere behind us. “Brianna! You’ve no run off, have ye? neit ye for cake sizes an table space, lass!”
She flinched almost imperceptibly, then forced a small smile. “I should–”
“Go,” I said gently. “We can talk later.”
Some part of me hoped she’d protest. That she’d say she had a moment. That I mattered enough to delay cake logistics.
She just nodded. “Right. I’ll… see you.”
She turned, heading back toward the front, the mayor already waving her over with a stack of papers. I watched her go, that unsettled twist in my chest tugging tighter.
“Before you start overthinking,” a voice said at my elbow, “she’s not upset with you.”
I looked down to find Ivy standing there, arms folded, eyes sharper than usual.
“I wasn’t–” I began.
She gave me a look that said she wasn’t in the mood for lies. “You absolutely were.”
I huffed out a breath. “She seemed… off.”
“She gets like this every year,” Ivy said more softly, glancing past me to where Brianna was now talking to the mayor. “This week especially.”
“Why?” I asked.
“It’s the anniversary of her grandmother’s passing,” Ivy said. “The one who taught her half the recipes she uses. The one who used to bring her here to help decorate the hall for the Ball when she was little.” Her expression softened. “Her mum died in the spring, but this week… this is when it hits her first. Like clockwork.”
A thread of understanding tugged inside me.
“I didn’t know,” I said quietly.
“She doesn’t talk about it much,” Ivy replied. “Doesn’t like making people feel sorry for her. She throws herself into work. The bakery and the Ball. Anything so she doesn’t have to think too hard about who’s missing.”
I looked at Brianna again, standing beside the mayor, nodding carefully as she listened to instructions, her face composed.
“How bad is it?” I asked.
“She’ll be fine,” Ivy said. “She always is. Just… maybe don’t push too hard today, all right?”
The way she said it had layers. A warning. A request. A measure of how much she was willing to trust me near someone she clearly loved like family.
“I wasn’t planning on pushing,” I said. “I just… wanted to make sure she’s okay.”
Ivy studied me for a moment, as if weighing something. Then she nodded once. “Good.”
From the second row, the knitting trio had turned in their seats again, watching me and Ivy with predatory interest. Mrs. Lennox leaned in to whisper something to Mrs. Douglas, whose eyes went positively gleeful. Mrs. McAvoy just smirked. I had the distinct feeling my presence at this meeting had just promoted whatever story they’d already constructed about Brianna and me to a full-fledged saga.
“I should help with the boxes out back,” Ivy said, backing away. “You heading off?”
I glanced once more at Brianna. She was laughing at something the mayor had said now, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
“Yes,” I said slowly. “For now.”
“Then I’ll see you,” Ivy said. “And, Oliver?”
“Yes?”
“Keep your promise please and do everything you can to help her not lose her home.” She didn’t say it like a threat. She said it like a promise she’d make the town keep if I failed.
