Page 31 of Silver Hills' Christmas Miracle

He hesitated, unable to find an answer. “The cost of progress,” Dad snapped. “And you!”

Suddenly, he surged past me, and when I turned, I saw him making a beeline for Rook who was standing nearby.

“Sir.”

“Don’tsirme,” Dead snapped. “What kind of fucking bullshit is this? You know damn well she doesn’t understand a thing about business and you let her get this far? Where was the sensibility? Why the fuck didn’t you stamp this out the moment you saw her on the wrong path?”

Rook seemed as unfazed as ever as my dad yelled in his face. It was hard to believe they were friends in that moment.

“You hired me to protect her, and that is what I am doing,” Rook replied calmly. “If you want me to police her thoughts…” He leaned forward a fraction. “That costs extra.”

“You son of a bitch,” Dad snarled. “Let me make myself perfectly clear. If this, or anything like this happens again, I will fire you so fast that you won’t even have time to pack your bags, understand? And you!”

He spun back to me.

“If I hear one morehintthat you are doing anything other than supporting the path I am taking, I will send you so far away, you will be nothing more than an afterthought to these people.”

“Dad!”

“I mean it, Kitty. This stops now, you hear me?”

The anger stayed with me on the entire silent ride home. I caught Rook looking at me a few times, and I could tell he wanted to say something, but I was too furious to listen. I didn’t trust myself to open my mouth while I was seething.

How dare he?

How dare he act like I am the problem when he hasn’t set foot in town in weeks?

My anger was further fueled by the voice of doubt in my head that maybe he was right. After all, someone definitely called him and told him about the posters. I wasn’t as naive to thinkthat every single person in town hated the idea of the highway expansion. Just like my father, there were sure to be some people who benefitted from this kind of change. But when the majority were being harmed, shut out, and struggled to survive?

It couldn’t be the right way.

And yet I was doubting my own thoughts now. Likely, a side effect of the adrenaline pumping through me with each rapid heartbeat, but it was there all the same. It didn’t help that being dragged out of a bar by your dad was embarrassing, no matter how old you were.

And then he threatened to fire Rook? His friend?

He really was losing a grip on things. Or he was so blinded by dollar signs that nothing else mattered.

I remained silent as the car pulled into the manor. I then stayed in the car as my father was greeted by my mother at the door, which sent a new burst of frustration through me. I wished she would stand up to him more.

No, I wished she would have my back more. I understood she was the way she was because she was a truly gentle soul, but she grew up in this town. She was watching her husband destroy it but didn’t mind because she still had her art and the ball.

Only when they left did I slide from the car and stomp into the manor, suddenly hating everything I laid my eyes on. I hated the black and white checkered tiles on the floor, the cream pillars and the obnoxious paintings hanging in the foyer. I hated the white stairs that gleamed too brightly as I stomped up to my room. I hated the red carpet that lined the hallway to my bedroom, and I hated the black curtains draped over the tall bay windows.

I hated it all.

I stormed into my room and slammed the door shut, only it didn’t make the satisfying loud slam I was hoping to hear. I turned and saw I had instead slammed the door on poor Rook.

“Rook!”

“Ow.”

“I’m sorry,” I snapped. “I’m just…” I searched for words to try and unravel the knots in my chest, but there were none. Nothing felt right in describing how I was feeling. There was only darkness.

“I know,” Rook said. He stepped closer and shut the door behind him. The way his eyes searched mine, I got the feeling that he was in the same boat. He wanted to say something but nothing was feeling right. Nothing wasenough.

The air sparked between us, and when I breathed in, his warm coffee scent flooded my lungs and eased the first knot of tension in my chest.

Fuck it.

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