Page 6 of Penance (Rising From the Ashes #2)

Lily

M y hands shake as I hold today’s newspaper. I’ve been in Benton Falls for almost two years, and one would think I would be used to the town’s antics, but this—this seems like another level.

I should have known. Ethel and Muriel are the go big or go home type of gals.

And they went big.

Sometime last night, they managed to snap a photo of me wrapped around Theo as he carried me down the ladder, and they edited it within an inch of their lives.

There’s a plane flying over us, an American flag attached to the underside, blowing in the breeze.

Explosives are flying from the community building’s windows, and it’s all more dramatic than it really was.

But it’s the headline that makes it worse.

At the top of the paper, in big, bold letters, the words read, “War Hero Saves Beauty Pageant Queen From Fire.”

As I read the title again, a harsh snort scratches my throat.

Embarrassment heats my cheeks, and I look around to see if anyone noticed the unladylike sound that just left me. This newspaper is embarrassing enough without adding fuel to the disaster that is my life .

I’d hoped to avoid the public eye today, but staying home was not an option when I woke up and found I’d run out of coffee. I would face public ridicule a thousand times as long as it meant I could nourish my body with the sweet, sweet nectar of coffee.

As I left my house, I prepared myself to be bombarded with questions about the fire last night, but to my surprise, the morning has been quiet. Aside from the paper, I haven’t heard a peep of gossip. It makes me suspicious.

The chime over the coffee shop door rings, and I look up in time to see a flustered MJ rushing into the shop.

Since her and Hayes’s engagement party, MJ and I have gotten closer. I finally got over the fact that Hayes wanted her, and I think she chose to ignore that I’d once wanted Hayes—that or she was planning on murdering me in my sleep. With MJ, it was sometimes hard to tell.

Before MJ came back to town, Hayes and I had been close friends, and it was evident from the start that he was in love with her.

“Hi. Hey. How’s it going?” MJ asks, pulling out the chair across the table and sliding into it.

“Uh—good?”

I like MJ, but the woman has more energy than I can handle sometimes.

MJ’s gaze drops to the newspaper in my hand, and a giant smile splits her face.

“I see you had an eventful night last night.”

“You could say that,” I mumble, flipping the newspaper over so no one else can see it—not that they won’t be able to get their own. They are everywhere.

MJ lifts her eyes, leaning forward and bracing her arms on the table as she studies me. Her eyes narrow, and she purses her lips. I’d never tell MJ this because Abigail and MJ are very different people, but MJ looks just like her mother when she looks at me like that .

“You sound awfully down for a beauty queen who was just saved by a war hero. I didn’t even know Theo fought in a war,” MJ teases, and I groan, dropping my head to the table with a bang.

“I knew the rumors were going to be out of hand today. I should have stayed home.”

“Hey,” MJ says, reaching out and patting my head like I’m a puppy needing comfort. “We all have to be victims of the gossip train some time or another. Your time is now. It will pass soon enough.”

I don’t lift my head, but I turn it enough to crack open one eye and glare at her. “Is that what you told yourself when you were the one riding that train?”

MJ is smart enough to look sheepish, her cheeks turning red as she tries to hide her smile.

“No, but I digress,” she says, shrugging. “It’s still true.”

I roll my eyes and turn my head back down toward the table.

“I hate your positivity. I hope you know that,” I say the words, but they don’t come out like normal. A tightness has started to weigh on my chest, and my eyes are burning.

I don’t cry. From a young age, I learned that crying gives away your weaknesses, but that’s exactly how I feel. Weak.

It’s stupid because MJ is right. The gossip will die down. Someone will do something stupid, and the town will move on to that. But until then, I’m the center of attention, and that’s not a place that has ever treated me well. My shoulders shudder with the effort to hold myself together.

I will not cry. Not here. Not ever.

“Hey, Lily,” MJ says, her voice different than before—kinder, maybe? She reaches out her hand, resting it softly atop my arm, and I try not to flinch. “Breathe. We’ll figure this out together, okay?”

Jitters still run beneath my skin—an itch I can’t scratch—but I take a deep breath, arranging my appearance on the outside before I lift my head. The weight is still there. It always seems to be there, but I’ve gotten good at faking that it isn’t.

“Sorry. I lost my composure for a moment.” I offer her a smile, but my face feels tight, like I’m not doing it right.

It was bad enough breaking down in front of Theo last night.

The adrenaline had seeped out of me, and I couldn’t make myself move.

Now, here I am, breaking down again, only this time in front of MJ.

“You don’t have to apologize, you know,” MJ says, stealing one of my mini muffins I ordered and then promptly sat aside after I saw the newspaper. “Everyone has moments when they break down.”

That may be true for someone like MJ. She is so confident that she doesn’t worry about what others think of her—not even her mother.

But for someone like me, I thrive on control.

I used to think I was jealous of MJ because she had Hayes’s attention, but now I realize it’s because MJ knows how to let go.

“Not me,” I say, the fake smile making my cheeks ache.

______________________

After seeing the paper and running into MJ, I should’ve cut my losses and gone straight home. Instead, I chose foolishness over sanity.

I needed to see the community building in the daylight—see how close that brush with death had gotten. Maybe it is morbid, but a sense of doom has settled around my shoulders since last night, and I can’t shake it.

So, with a second coffee in hand, I drive out of the coffee shop parking lot and head out.

Like all drives in this town, it takes me five minutes to get there.

Not that I’m complaining. The ability to get wherever I want in such a short time is another reason I love Benton Falls.

But this time, I wish the drive had been longer.

I needed more time to prepare for the devastation I see when I pull up.

I’d known the fire was bad last night, but it is so much worse than anything I could’ve imagined in the light of day.

One side of the building is gone. Burned to ashes.

Black soot covers everything, including the ground, and the tree I’d been lying on is also damaged.

I hadn’t realized it’d caught fire, too.

That sense of doom grows heavier as I pull into a parking space and put my car in park. My hands are shaking so badly I have to grab the steering wheel to gain some control, and those tears I’d managed to keep at bay in front of MJ prick my eyes again.

I almost died last night.

The thought keeps running through my head, and I can’t get it out. I can’t quit thinking about how utterly off-track my life has gotten. Last night was almost the end of it, and I can’t think of one good thing I’ve done in this life to make it worthwhile.

Sure. I have a job. I got out of poverty. I made something out of myself, but as I stare up at the building where I could have lost my life, none of those things feel meaningful enough. I’m so lost in that thought that I don’t notice the woman walking to my car until she knocks on my window.

The noise startles me, forcing my attention from the building as I swipe at my face. Abigail Harrison stands outside my car, regal as always, watching me with a knowing look. My face flames hot, and I’m suddenly very aware of what I mess I must look.

Abigail is always the picture of perfection, never a hair out of place.

She’s the type of woman I want to be. The kind that would never get stuck in a tree.

Yet here I am, looking like a slouch and on the verge of a mental breakdown.

Some things never change, and it’s starting to feel like I’m one of them.

With the forced grin back on my lips, I tug on the door handle and step out of the car to greet her.

“Hello, Mrs. Harrison.” One of her perfectly manicured brow lifts, and I wince internally. “I mean, hello, Abigail. ”

Her lips tilt up, revealing a row of straight white teeth as she smiles. “Hello, dear.” Lifting my shoulders, I stand a little taller under her gaze. It’s pathetic. “I was planning to find you today,” she continues, “but since you’re here, now is as good a time as any.”

My shoulders fall, and I reach for my necklace—another habit I need to break.

“Is everything okay?”

“Oh, yes, dear. I’m fine, but the question is, are you ? I saw the paper this morning. Quite the ordeal you went through last night.”

Of all people, Abigail is the last person I want to discuss this with, but she’s here—and avoiding it isn’t an option.

“Yes, it was— something. Our local fire department responded swiftly, though. I’m very appreciative of them,” I say, clasping my hands in front of me and forcing my voice to stay neutral.

Abigail’s lips twitch. “I bet you are. They did their job very well, I would say. Some more than others.”

There’s a teasing lilt to her words—even a toddler would understand her insinuation—but to acknowledge anything to do with Theo and me would only fuel the flames of whatever gossip is being cooked up after that news article. And I want no part of it.

“Yes, well, as you said,” I say, dropping my gaze and brushing an invisible piece of lint off my shirt, “they were just doing their job.”

I don’t look up, but I can feel Abigail’s eyes on me, cutting through the layers I try to hide behind. Thankfully, she lets it drop with a dissatisfied harrumph and a change of topic.

“As glad as I am that you’re okay, that’s not the reason I was coming to find you.”

“Oh?” I ask, now a little intrigued. Abigail and I are on several committees together, and it’s not unusual for us to work together on things. I love working with her. I learn a lot.

“Yes. It’s about your Birdie application. ”

I try to keep my composure, but a tiny squeak slips out before I can stop it. The Benton Birdies are the committee. All other committees pale in comparison. They are the pulse of Benton Falls, but they are exclusive. And I’ve been trying to gain access for months.

“Has a decision been made?” I ask, and thankfully, my voice comes out relatively normal.

Inside is another matter entirely. My heart is beating so fast I fear it may break out of my chest. Wiping my hands on my pants, I will it to slow down as Abigail considers me.

I can’t tell if the look on her face is good or bad news. Considering where I’m standing, I could use some good news, but last night was proof of my luck, so I try not to hold my breath.

“The Birdies have not made up their minds yet. There are several good candidates. You included. But we want to ensure our decision is best for the town.” Abigail’s voice is smooth and calm, and I try to pretend the news doesn’t hurt.

Professional. That’s the mask I’m good at, and it’s the one I need to remember to keep on. Hysterics and pity parties will not get my application accepted. Calculation and planning, however, will.

“Are there concerns about me?”

I wait, willing her to say no. From the moment I stepped foot in Benton Falls, I’ve done everything right, except last night. I joined the right charities. I shopped at the right boutiques. I networked with the right people. I did it all, so the logical answer had to be no.

Yet, in all the time I’ve been here, I have never seen Abigail unable to meet someone’s eyes. Nothing intimidates her, but I can see the reluctance to tell me written on her face from a mile away.

“Some of the members have…concerns.”

My hands tremble, and I hide them behind my back. To most, this is a silly thing to be upset about. It’s just a committee, after all. But to me, it means making it. Proving to myself I’m better than my upbringing. Doing something meaningful.

“May I ask what concerns?”

To my relief, my voice doesn’t come out as shaky as I feel on the inside.

Small miracles, I guess.

Abigail chews on her lip, another thing that’s out of character for her, and again I’m reminded how much she and MJ look alike.

It sends a pang through my chest when I think about my own mother.

A lot of people said I looked like her growing up, but I never took it as a compliment.

She was the example of what I didn’t want to be.

It’s why I took such pride in changing my appearance when I got older.

Blonde hair instead of the mousy brown I grew up with.

Fuller lips, thanks to Botox. And a trajectory in life that looked nothing like my mother’s.

MJ is lucky. I’d give anything to share similarities with a woman like Abigail.

“I can take it, Abigail. Just—tell me so I can devise a plan to fix it.” I push, but I’m not sure I can.

“They think you’re cold,” she finally blurts, not meeting my gaze.

“Cold?” I repeat, dumbfounded. I work at and organize every charity event Benton Falls has. I work with kids. I visit the elderly in the nursing home, yet they consider me cold?

“Listen, dear—” Abigail pauses, reaching out and taking my hand between hers, and suddenly, I feel the ice that runs through my veins.

Abigail’s hands are warm and a sharp contrast to mine.

It’s like our blood doesn’t run at the same temperature.

Logically, I know Abigail is speaking about my personality, but it’s easier to focus on this.

To pretend—just for a moment—that I haven’t failed at something once again.

But then, Abigail begins to speak again, and reality sinks in.

“It’s nothing personal. It’s just that sometimes you come off as—unapproachable. ”

“Unapproachable?” I repeat like a child who is only half listening, but my mind is spinning.

There are a lot of things I can fix, but this—I don’t even know where to start.

Since last night, a fissure has begun to form in the masks I’ve perfected, and I’m afraid if they take too many hits, I’ll be exposed for the imposter I am.

She winces. “A little. Maybe you could bring your family around. Show them there’s more to you than what meets the eye.”

I shake my head. “There’s no family.”

Not anymore.

Abigail’s eyes are sad when they finally meet mine, and I see what she was trying to hide. It’s not just the committee that thinks I’m cold. She does, too.