Page 83 of Sugar & Shadows

“What—”

“The sap is running,” she shouted. “Get up. We have work to do.”

I blinked, my brain fuzzy as I tried to digest her words. It was Tuesday. “Aren’t you at school?”

“Yeah.” A door slammed. “But this is more important. I texted my mom and she’s calling the office to tell them my aunt is picking me up for a doctor appointment.”

Silence hung between us as her meaning registered. Ah. I was the fictional aunt in this scenario.

“So get over here,” she ordered. “I need to stop at the library and pick up my equipment.”

Damn. She wasn’t just excited. She was electric. Like she’d been plugged into a generator that was pumping energy drinks through her veins.

Meanwhile, I was sitting on my mother’s couch in sweats, scanning the room while my brain still worked to power on.

“Come on,” she urged. “Nina’s already on her way. Canceled all her clients.”

“Already? How?”

“The text chain. Everyone is mobilizing. You’re the only one who didn’t respond. Which is why I had to hide in a bathroom stall and call you.” She grunted. “Do you know how hard it is to whisper when something this monumental is happening?”

Whisper. Ha. She’d nearly ruptured my eardrum when I answered.

“Okay, okay. I’m coming.” I pushed a hand through my hair. I had showered, so really, all I needed were clothes.

“Sap day! Sap day!” she sang. “This is the day we’ve been preparing for.”

I hopped off the couch and shook my head, kicking my brain into gear. I need to get dressed. Then I could figure out what needed to be done next.

“Layers. Boots. It’s gonna be cold and it will be a long day,” Harper said, like she was the adult and I was the child. “I have a shot list, and there are several pieces of content to get done. And so much B-roll.” Her voice got higher with each task she listed. “Plus someone has to go into the lives and moderate.”

“On it,” I grumbled, opening my closet door. “Give me ten minutes.”

As I pulled on leggings and an oversized sweater, I psyched myself up for the challenge ahead. It was game time. We’d been working too hard not to see this through.

Woman up, Monroe. I dragged my brush through my hair and pulled it into a ponytail. Time to kick some ass.

The Lawrence farm was chaotic when we arrived. The sun shone brightly off the snow, and the cold air stung my lungs. Trucks lined the driveway, and there were people everywhere, including several kids and a shaggy gray dog the size of a horse.

My mother was bundled up in her pink parka, gesturing toward the tree line while speaking with an older woman.

Harper hadn’t stopped talking since I pulled up in front of the high school. She’d even synced her phone to my car’s Bluetooth and called Meg for server maintenance and live stream moderation.

Meg, who had toppled regimes and quietly rewritten a small country’s tax code over a long weekend, was uncharacteristically giddy about sap. “I can’t believe it,” she squealed as we pulled up to the farm. “This is better than the Latvian banking thing.”

Harper looked at me, brow furrowed in confusion.

I shook my head. It was always better not to ask.

“Protocol three,” Harper said. “It’s eleven now. We have several hours of light left. Text me if you hit any snags.”

“Roger that,” Meg said.

“What is protocol three?” I asked as we climbed out of the SUV. “You making plans without me?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Harper was already hitching a lighting rig over her shoulder and waving at Nina. “Grab the drone,” she said as she jogged toward the action.

Slinging bags over my shoulder and cradling the precious drone, which had cost more than my first car, I trudged toward them.