Page 35 of Well Aware

Charleigh blinked. “A whole, whole lot.”

Court looked at me to confirm.

“She hates Charleigh most of all,” I agreed. “She hates us—Lysander and me. But she really hates Charleigh.”

“But why?” Court asked. “The worst thing she did was have the nerve to survive her attempted murder.”

“We never really figured that part out,” Charleigh admitted.

I nodded.

“Then I have a different suggestion,” Court offered up. “Instead of you selling your shares to me, why don’t we equally buy into the company? You and I split up the shares. Or, you keep your ten percent, but come in with me and we’ll be the owner and you’ll just vote with me. Or, I could buy all but five percent, and you buy the five percent from one of them. Then you’ll share the same fifteen percent as Seraphina. Your vote will cancel out her vote. She’ll hate it.”

Charleigh tapped her finger to her lips for a few seconds before saying, “Okay, I’ll do it. You’ll have to help me quit my job, first.”

I would’ve stayed to hear more of the discussion, but my principal walked up in the next moment, stealing my attention.

He held out his hand and said, “The kids are excited for you to come back, my friend.”

I grinned. “I’m excited to be back. Never wished Thanksgiving and Christmas away before but…”

“It’ll be here before you know it.” He held out his hand for me to shake once more. “See you in January.”

By the time the short conversation was over and I returned my attention back to the two people next to me, their conversation was over and they were looking pretty pissed.

“On that note,” I said. “I’ll get with the lawyers tomorrow, Court. I’ll let you know when we’re ready to sign.”

Court nodded. “Sounds good.”

EIGHT

I don’t know if I’m fighting demons or I am the demon.

—Beau to Magnolia

MAGNOLIA

I was bone-tired.

So tired, in fact, that I would say I felt worse now than I did when Iris was an infant and keeping me up at all hours of the night.

“Pssst.”

At the sound that Iris made when she wanted my attention but didn’t want to talk, my mind finally focused.

I looked over to the living room to see Iris standing there with her backpack on by the front door with her hand on the knob.

“Is your bus here?” I asked.

She nodded.

“Yes,” she signed.

I walked quickly to the door and opened it for her, waving at the bus driver who was patiently waiting for my girl.

She always would.

Iris liked to take her muffins and cookies.