Page 17 of Holding Hope

What kind of example was I if I let someone treat me like that?

“It’s more than that, Melly,” I said, tapping a pen against my notebook.

“Then uncomplicate it,” she said, pinching the bridge of her nose. Her eyes shimmered. “We never know if my cancer might come back. There are so many things I want to do but can’t. This could be my last chance⁠—”

“Melody.”

I knew what she was doing.

The “this could be my last chance” card.

She’d learned how powerful it was years ago.

I sighed. Was what Avalon did really unforgivable? Maybe there was something she could do for me in return.

Then I remembered:

Aunt Brie.

Her work with disabled and underprivileged kids.

Something I’d wanted to do since Melody’s remission.

“Fine,” I snapped. “I’ll do it.”

Melody squealed and launched herself at me, squeezing the air from my lungs. “Thank you, Sissy!”

Her laughter echoed through the barn as she ran off. I smiled despite myself. Maybe this really was my last chance to do something big for her.

“Uhm, hi,” Avalon’s voice drifted from the doorway. “Just reminding you I’m still here. I don’t want you to forget me or… anything.”

“It would be impossible to forget you, Avalon,” I muttered.

I motioned for her to follow me.

“I’m going to show you where you can sleep.”

She trailed behind me, boots thudding loudly. I led her to the last two rooms. “You can put your things here and sleep in the other,” I said. “Sheets are clean. No one’s used these rooms since last year.”

She stepped inside, looking around with wide eyes. “So… it’ll just be the two of us in this big space?”

Her tone was unmistakably flirty, familiar, dangerous.

I shook my head. “Don’t get any ideas.”

She smirked. “I shouldn’t get any ideas about what?”

“Us,” I said firmly. “There is no us. You’re here to write music. That’s it.”

She shrugged—infuriatingly casual. “Great. I can do that.”

“Can you?” I asked, watching her sit on the edge of the bed. She looked out of place—a splash of black ink on a canvas of warm browns and blues.

Her brow furrowed. “I’m not the one wearing a quarter around my neck, Clarke.” My hand flew to the necklace instinctively.

I swallowed hard.

“I don’t want you getting any notions,” I said. “Nothing is happening between us.” Avalon’s eyes softened—just a little. “Then why are you letting me stay?”