Page 40 of Breadwinner

Sarah gave a small, dry smile. “Yes, Nell. I live on an island. With trees, and ferry rides. Try not to look so shocked.”

“I’m not shocked, just surprised.” Nell refused to flinch at the shortness in Sarah’s tone. She really didn’t think there was a need for it. Was Sarah annoyed she hadn’t let her know she was in town?

Sarah tilted her head. “So, spa day?”

“Spa day.” Nell smiled faintly.

Sarah nodded but didn’t say anything else as she looked over her shoulder in the direction of the tea room.

“And you?” Nell asked. “You’re here with... all of them?”

Sarah sighed and leaned slightly against the edge of the chair beside her. “It was supposed to be just Lily and me—a girl’s day before gymnastics season picks up again. Then Lily wanted to bring Wren. Then Beth found out and invited herself, and Jamie got looped in.”

“You said yes to all of that?”

“You’re not the only one who can keep the peace when necessary,” Sarah said, with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Nell studied Sarah, quietly taking in the way she held herself with a certain stoicism, but with a slight tiredness at the edges. She saw the hint of tension in her shoulders, the effort it took to keep everything in place, and she couldn’t help but wonder if that was a result of being around Beth.

“I’m sorry,” Nell said, after a pause. “For not telling you I was here.”

Sarah looked at her, her eyes clear. “Thank you.”

A moment passed between them.

“I should go,” Sarah said, looking again to the door her group had gone through. “They’ll notice I’m gone.” Nell nodded, but before Sarah turned to leave, she said, “And Nell?”

“Yes?”

Sarah’s voice softened. “You don’t have to disappear when you need quiet time or space. You can ask for it. I’d rather you do that than be questioning if I did something to upset you.”

Nell didn’t reply; she only watched as Sarah walked away.

That evening, Nell sat at the sleek dining table that doubled as her workspace in the hotel penthouse high above Downtown Seattle. A legal pad was open in front of her, her laptop humming quietly at her side as she attempted to catch up on work that had fallen by the wayside. But it was no use. She had been reading the same section of this report for the past thirty minutes, and all her brain wanted to do was revisit the rain-slicked spa atrium and the way Sarah’s gaze had locked on to hers from across the room.

There was something about seeing Sarah there, out of context, that she couldn’t stop thinking about.Something she couldn’t let go of. It was how Sarah had seemedsmalleraround her family. It didn’t sit well with Nell.

Sarah could command a table full of executives with one pointed question. She had a presence that burned so brightly it forced people to look at her, and a natural curiosity that crackled like a live wire. Sarah, who had once confessed—with her back arched and her lips parted—that being seen by Nell made her feel powerful.

ThatSarah had been reduced to someone careful and mild and quietly resigned. That was notherSarah.

She understood, to some extent, that Sarah played nice for the sake of family, but shrinking herself to do so wasn’t the answer. She hated that there were still people who knew Sarah’s brilliance and, instead of watching in awe, looked right past her.

For someone who prided herself on her ability to compartmentalize, Nell couldn’t seem to file that thought away. Couldn’t shelve it alongside the other things she kept from spilling over the edges of her life.

She tapped her pen once, then twice, before closing the lid of her laptop and reaching for her phone.

Sarah picked up on the second ring. “Nell?”

“How soon can you get to my hotel?” Nell asked, startled at the impulsiveness of her question.

There was a pause.

“In about an hour, give or take, depending on traffic and the ferry.”

Nell nodded, even though Sarah couldn’t see her. “I’ll be waiting.”

It was ridiculous how much she could feel each and every minute in the hour that passed as she waited for Sarah to arrive. She told herself that the phone call had been nothing more than regaining control, an attempt to re-center their arrangement. But she also knew, deep down, that something about seeing Sarah like that—a shrunken version of herself—had left Nell off balance. She wanted to see the fire again, the edge. The woman who challenged her, who disarmed her, who never let her get too comfortable in her certainty.