Page 13 of Breadwinner

“Thank you,” she said slowly, as if she had practiced the pace and tone of the words.

Sarah had to give it to Wren. She had come such a long way in the last year, but she was still just a kid finding her voice and her confidence. Sarah decided to throw her a small life raft.

“Wren, weren’t you telling us at dinner the other night how excited you are about the research Nell has been investing in around ACL injuries in female athletes?”

Before Wren could respond, the voice of Shannon York rang out, calling for her. “Parker, get over here. You’ve got jerseys to sign.”

Wren looked helplessly between Nell and the gaggle of fans at the edge of the field.

“Um... I need to go. You know—fan engagement stuff.” She paused for a moment, looking slightly helpless, then turned, tripping over her feet before catching herself and walking toward the group waiting for her.

“I’m going with her. You know, to make sure she doesn’t put her foot in her mouth any more than usual.” Lily smiled before heading to join Wren.

Nell watched them for a long moment before speaking. “I wanted to sign Wren.”

Sarah blinked. “Really?”

“She’s raw, but she’s got instinct,” Nell said simply. “But last year, when she was only sixteen, staying local was the right call.”

Sarah studied her. “I didn’t realize she was on your radar.”

Nell turned back to her, a smirk tugging at her lips. “If it’s worth knowing, it’s on my radar.”

There it was again. That shift. They were back in the unspoken game they had been playing since dinner. Sarah knew it was coming. The playful control. The deliberate patience. And yet she still felt the thrill of it.

“It was truly a pleasant surprise to see you again so soon, Sarah,” Nell said smoothly. “I’m needed elsewhere, but I trust you’ll have my puzzle figured out by the end of the week.”

Sarah raised an eyebrow. “And what exactly happens if I don’t solve it?”

Nell’s gaze skimmed over her, assessing and appreciating, clearly enjoying the moment.

“That’s not an option,” she said coolly.

Infuriating. Sarah hated that answer, but she also loved it. It was the answer she would have given. Before she could respond, Nell shifted slightly, leaning close enough to tip the charged air between them.

“Dinner the other week was illuminating, wasn’t it,” Nell said, as though stating a fact rather than asking a question.

A shiver ran down Sarah’s spine as Nell’s eyes flickered with something unnamed and she caught the slightest hint of Nell’s tongue darting out to wet her lips.

It was so subtle, but Sarah caught it. Her body reacted to it, sending a jolt of heat directly to her center. Suddenly, she was the one scrambling for words.

“Yeah,” she said dumbly, because apparently that was all she was capable of.

Nell laughed—actually laughed. Not a light chuckle or a polite exhale, but a full, amused, genuine laugh. It was one of the best sounds Sarah had ever heard.

Nell leaned in slightly and lowered her voice. “I’ll see you soon, Sarah.”

And then—just like that—she was gone.

Sarah let out a slow breath, trying to compose herself and ignore the unmistakable heat crawling up her spine. Trying—and failing—to pretend like she hadn’t been left thoroughly unbalanced.

She was never unbalanced. But Nell Stanhope seemed to have that power over her.

Later that week, Sarah sat on the couch in Beth and Jamie’s living room, sipping her glass of red wine. Family dinners had shifted from every Friday to every other Thursday—a concession to increasingly packed calendars—but they still made it work. Even if being in the same room as Beth and Jamie still made a small part of Sarah want to disappear, she committed herself to continuing to show up.

She was usually so good at compartmentalizing. Everything in its box. Even Beth. But Beth had a way of spilling out of every container Sarah had ever tried to place her in. Still, Sarah kept trying, because she couldn’t let Beth consume her, no matter how much she wanted to. Beth had chosen Jamie. Not her. The night Beth told her about Jamie, Sarah made that decision out of a refusal to jeopardize her family’s happiness.

She would deal with it and continue to show up for her family.