Hello, Again (Book 2)

The Girl

ERLAND

Mrs. Fabian was all up in my face almost as soon as I entered the library. She buzzed around me like some kind of mosquito, complaining about my lateness and about how I should be grateful she even accepted my volunteer application in the first place, when I finally apologized and stepped behind the front counter as if it was my shield.

"You were more than two days late." She waved a hand as if to get my attention, two bony fingers trembling. "The school knows the rules. One call to your principal would wipe that smirk off your face, I'm sure, Mr. Malloy." She blabbered on, but I ignored the rest of it like the rattling of an old air conditioner and started cataloguing the books dropped in the check-in basket.

"Hello, Mrs. Fabian," a female voice interrupted her as she started on the dust that coated the counter, and Mrs. Fabian spun around.

She instantly deflated, straightening the lapel of her gray suit. "Good afternoon, Ms. Irving."

"I saw some students on the second floor looking at toys in the children's nook. I wonder if they might need some help picking out some books." Bella waved a finger up the stairs, where the sound of muffled laughter filtered down.

Whatever calm Mrs. Fabian might have achieved disappeared and she perked up once more like a ruffled blackbird. She stormed up the steps, and I knew for certain it wasn't to help them pick out any reading material before spring break. Bella's wicked grin sent a flare of emotion running through me, and I matched hers with my own.

She nudged my elbow. "At least pretend to look busy, Er." She reached over me to pick up another book, then scanned it into the system.

I mirrored her actions.

After a moment, we heard Mrs. Fabian's angry titter filtering down through the stairs. Bella let out a sharp exhale.

"What's going on with you today?" She looked me up and down, as if noting my blue polo and jeans would somehow tell her some secret.

I wasn't surprised she picked up on something so fast. She'd picked up a lot when she'd worked with her mother cleaning Nicolas Masiello's house, and she wouldn't even tell me all that she'd seen in the house of the man who'd once been my sister's fiancé. Now she worked on high-profile projects with Wayward Publishing's teen initiative, at least as much as she could between the library, church, and school.

One thing I knew was, as observant as she was, she would keep her silence if it mattered.

So, in hushed tones that wouldn't carry beyond a bookshelf, I told her about Gramps and the inmate attack.

To her credit, she didn't react with the shock or awe I expected. Her dark eyes barely moved from where they'd settled on the front cover of the book on the counter, and she chewed her lip as if in thought. A hand went up to pull back her hair—once, it had been a short pixie-cut, but she'd grown it out to her shoulders, now tied back in a loose pony-tail. It made the electric-blue hue of her eyes spark like fireworks against the dark frame of her hair.

I placed a hand on her shoulder. "Really, Bella, you don't gotta worry about this—"

She stopped chewing her lip and fixed me with a look that caught my breath in my lungs. "Of course I do, stupid." Her slight smile softened the words. "I think you take too much of your sister's problems for yourself. The least I can do is share the burden."

She grinned fully now. 

"Now," she said, turning suddenly to the counter again. "Go make that phone call before Fabian gets back. I'll cover for you." She shot me a wink, and even nudged me again with her elbow when I didn't move.