Page 39 of Curve Balls and Second Chances (Pickwick Pirate Queens #1)

T he next morning, Rose stepped out to grab the newspaper from the rack outside the coffee shop - and froze.

There, below the fold of the Pickwick Gazette , was a headline in bold:

"Sweet Lies ? Local Barista’s Past Stirring Up Small - Town Drama "

And beneath it, a grainy photo of Rose , cropped from a festival booth five years ago, her smile wide, her hands holding two large coffees.

She flipped the page with numb fingers.

There it was—just enough truth to be dangerous, just enough speculation to light a match.

A “source close to the situation” mentioned a teenage romance gone wrong and a bitter rift between former best friends. It was exactly the kind of thing Pickwick Bend pretended not to care about. While eating it up with a spoon.

Behind her, the coffee shop door opened.

“Rose?” Tasha’s voice. “ You okay?”

She turned, holding up the paper.

And for the first time in days, she didn’t feel anger.

She felt done.

Done hiding. Done reacting. Done letting Briana shape her story.

“This ends now,” she said, her voice steady.

“I’m going to tell them everything.”

The sun dipped low over Pickwick Lake , casting a warm glow over the ballfield as the sound of laughter and chatter drifted on the breeze.

Kids dashed between folding tables, faces sticky with frosting.

Neighbors passed around platters of cupcakes, peach cobbler, and slices of strawberry cake with hand-lettered signs reading “ Baked with Love by Rose .”

The stands were full.

The team was in uniform.

And Rose wasn’t trying to blend in.

She was trying to be seen.

Tasha grabbed her hand as they stood near the bleachers. “ You sure about this?”

Rose nodded, her heart pounding but steady. “ If I don’t tell it, Briana will keep rewriting it for me.”

Cindy appeared with a cordless microphone and a wink. “ Time to break the curse, Cinderella .”

Rose laughed nervously, then climbed the small set of stairs onto the makeshift stage they’d built from the high school’s band risers. The music faded. The crowd quieted.

She looked out across the field—the bleachers, the lawn chairs, the people who’d bought her muffins and watched her grow up and spread rumors about her and shown up tonight anyway.

Acen stood near the dugout, arms folded, expression open and unwavering.

Riley gave her a thumbs-up from behind home plate, where he was chasing off two toddlers using baseball gloves as hats.

Rose took a breath. And then she spoke.

“I don’t really like microphones,” she said, earning a few chuckles. “ Or being the center of attention. Which is funny, considering how many people have had opinions about me lately.”

That got more laughs—sharper ones.

“I read the article,” she said plainly. “ And I’m not here to refute it or spin it. I’m just here to tell the truth.”

The crowd leaned in.

“I was eighteen when I fell in love with Acen Wheeler . He was my brother’s best friend, and we were young and messy and full of hope. I thought we had forever. But forever didn’t come. And when it ended, it didn’t just break my heart. It broke part of me.”

The field was quiet now. Still .

“After he left town, I found out I was pregnant. I didn’t tell anyone. Not even him. And before I could figure out how to deal with it, I lost the baby. I thought I was being punished for something. I thought it was my fault. And instead of facing it, I shut down.”

A sharp breath rippled through the crowd. But no one left.

“I spent years letting that secret fester. Letting someone else, someone I once trusted, hold it over me. But I’m done with that. I’m done being ashamed of what happened to me. I’m done pretending I’m someone I’m not.”

She looked around at the people gathered.

“I’m Rose McAllister . I’m not perfect. I’ve made mistakes. But I’ve also baked your birthday cakes, and coached your kids, and stayed in this town because I love it. Because it’s my town, too. And I won’t let anyone shame me out of it again.”

Applause started on the left side of the bleachers, slow but strong.

Then it grew.

Until the whole crowd was on their feet.

Cheering.

Clapping.

Whistling.

Even a few tears.

Rose blinked hard, smiling despite the tears pricking her eyes.

When the noise finally settled, she added with a shaky laugh, “ Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a game to play and a team to coach.”

Cheers followed her as she stepped down, her knees weak, her hands trembling but her heart clear.

Acen met her at the bottom of the stairs.

“You were incredible,” he said.

“I was terrified.”

“That’s what makes it brave.”

She looked up at him. “ It doesn’t fix everything.”

“No,” he said. “ But it starts something new.”

He held out his hand.

She took it.

Behind them, the lights flickered on over the field.

The game was about to begin.