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“I’m sorry.” I sniffle, peering around. I’m crying and making a scene again. But then, we are at a funeral. It’s not like there are more people staring at me than there were five minutes ago.

“You can still know her.” Logan’s brows lift. “Maybe that’s why she left you her home. Maybe she felt the same regret.”

“I don’t even know how that would work.” My hands flail and my voice trembles. “I’m in school. I have a job. There’s Benjamin. I can only go through so much of her stuff before we leave—and before my dad decides to sell.”

“It’s your house, Olivia.” He stares so intently, like he’s studying me. “Only you can sell it.”

He should be right, but it wouldn’t work out that way.

I swallow down the rest of my tears and pull my fingers from his. “We should take our seats.” I turn away—it’s almost time for the service to begin, and I’m turning into a jumbled mess.

“You could stay. There’s a job opening here.”

“What?” I peer back at him, confused.

“You mentioned a job. You could always work here.”

The idea is absurd—even more absurd than Amelia giving me her house. I stare at him. Logan doesn’t even know me. Why would he suggest such a thing?

Then, as if able to read my thoughts, he says, “She was worth knowing.”

Eleven

The funeral doesn’t last long. Principal Levitz speaks very little of her family, merely mentioning her husband and three children. He says Amelia was esteemed by all who knew her. He talks about how she loved her job as a school secretary, as well as her position as a summer school aide for extracurricular classes. How she won a peach pie contest last year at the town fair, and that her homemade popcorn balls were never missed on Halloween.

After the service, we drive to the cemetery. My high heels sink into the grass and dirt as we walk to the place she’ll be buried. My chest shudders as they lower her coffin into the ground. Uncle Earl weeps like a child, while Dad stays dry-eyed. I’m grateful for Earl’s blubbering, as it diverts from my own quiet sobs.

The final words over Amelia’s grave are spoken, and Dad leans toward me, whispering, “Ready to go?”

I sigh, but Dad only hears confirmation. He starts for the car, offering polite goodbyes to those we pass. My legs are slow, following in silence, my heart not ready. I stare at the ground, falling farther and farther behind. Lifting my eyes, I catch Logan watching me. I can’t leave without saying goodbye to him.

“Olivia.” Dad peers back at me.

“I’m just going to say goodbye.” The memory of Logan means something to me. Because of him, I saw a different side to grumpy Amelia. I can’t leave without a word.

Dad walked back to where I stood. “Livy, let’s go.”

“It’ll only take a second.” Why does he care? Why does he hate this place?

His eyes dart to Logan, who does not shy away from staring at me. “No, Livy. You’ve practically got a fiancé. This isn’t appropriate.”

I scoff, peering up at him. “Benjamin is not my fiancé!” And it doesn’t look like he ever will be. He made that clear. “Telling a friend goodbye is not inappropriate behavior.”

I leave Dad grumbling, my heels sinking into the long grass with each of my steps. Logan’s hazel eyes sparkle as I approach him.

“I wondered if you’d say goodbye.”

I grin. “Of course. I guess we’re in a hurry, but I wanted to tell you how happy I am to have met you.” Logan. The curly-haired boy who I never forgot.

It’s time to go. But my feet won’t move.

“Logan, I want to tell you something.” I shrug, the memory of him with my grandmother something I can’t keep to myself any longer. When I think of Logan, a loving, affectionate Amelia produces in my mind. Something I didn’t know existed until the day I saw them together.

He tilts his head, his smile curious. “All right.”

“I saw you. When you were a little boy, I was staying with my grandmother, and I saw you outside her house.” The words flood out faster than the thoughts in my head.

He blinks, thinking. “Probably. There’s a good chance it was me.”