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“Thank you for bringing your friends.” She takes a seat behind her desk. “We always appreciate the extra help.” A stretch of concern crosses her face. “I need to ask you a favor.”

I nod, knowing I'll do it unless it’s something extreme.

“We have a new woman, Sage, who came here for help. She told us she was scared for her life, but other than that, she has hardly said a word to anyone. I think it was a domestic situation,but she refuses to talk with the therapist. She spends nearly every minute in her bed, either writing or reading.” Lora adjusts her glasses. “You’re the youngest woman on staff here. Think you can try talking to her?”

“If she hasn’t talked to you, you think she’ll open upto me?”

Lora is one of the easiest people to talk to. It’s why she’s so good at her job and has been director of the shelter for two decades.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Genesis. You’ve had many women and children open up to you who haven’t with anyone else.”

“All right.” I nod. “I’ll try to talk to her.”

“Thank you.”

I leave her office, her following me, and she points me toward a dark-haired girl sitting on a bottom bunk, writing in a journal. No one else is in the room. This is typically snack and arts and crafts time.

The woman is wearing headphones and bobbing her head, lip-syncing to the music. Her gaze flicks over to us, and she slowly lowers the headphones, knowing she’s the focus of attention.

Lora stays behind as I walk over to the woman.

She glances at each side of the room, like she’s looking for a quick exit.

“Hi,” I say, approaching her. “Sage, right?”

She drops the journal, not saying a word, staring at me like I’m the villain in her story.

Like she already doesn’t trust me.

Did she see me on the news?

My students did, so there’s a high possibility that answer is a yes.

Will that reputation follow me everywhere now?

I motion toward her bed. “Do you mind if I sit?”

She directs her gaze downward and shrugs.

“I’m Genesis,” I introduce myself, slowly sitting on the edge of the bed. “I teach classes here if you ever want to drop in. I’d love to have you.”

She lifts her gaze, flicking her bangs away from her eyes. “I’m good.” Snatching her journal, she shoves it into a brown backpack.

“All right,” I say, my voice soft and understanding. “The offer is always open.”

Here, you let people come to you on their own time.

Safe Hearts has taught me patience.

She abruptly stands from the bed and hoists the backpack over her shoulder. “I’m not stupid, and I don’t need stupid classes.”

I feel like a failure as I watch her storm off.

Julian is waiting for me at the entrance, on his phone, when I leave the room.

“You ready to go?” he asks.

I can’t stop myself from hugging him.