I followed her toward the foyer. “Winnie.”
She turned at the door. For one second she looked almost unbearably vulnerable. Like she was standing at the edge of something she desperately wanted and was equally terrified of.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly.
“You don’t have anything to apologize for.”
Her eyes searched mine. Then Bianca called again upstairs, more distressed this time.
Winnie opened the door quickly. “Goodnight, Conrad.”
Before I could stop her, she was gone.
I stared at her retreating back, then headed upstairs to Bianca’s room, my heart still pounding from the kiss. Somewherebeneath all of that was a growing certainty that Winnie Carrington was hiding something enormous from me.
I already knew I was going to love her anyway.
19
WINNIE
On Monday after school, I was in the middle of helping Billie construct what she insisted was a “fairy hospital” out of popsicle sticks when my phone buzzed.
I glanced down at the screen.
Millie PTA
That alone was surprising. I couldn’t remember the last time someone had simply texted me unless they needed something or there was a crisis.
I opened the message.
Millie PTA:Hey. Are you busy?
Before I could answer, another message appeared.
Millie PTA:Hazel has somehow acquired a recorder.
Millie PTA:You know. The instrument from hell.
I laughed.
Billie looked up. “What?”
“Nothing.”
Millie PTA:If I hear Hot Cross Buns one more time, I may walk directly into traffic.
My shoulders shook with suppressed laughter.
Billie narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
Me:That seems rather dramatic.
Millie PTA:You haven’t heard it.
Fair.
Millie PTA:Any chance you and Billie want visitors?
