Page 61 of Cornered

“Is different so bad?” Donovan wasn’t being nearly as harsh with Amos as Cassie had expected him to be.

“Yes! No. I don’t know.” Amos ran his hands through his hair. “Listen. I didn’t do it. Can I please go talk to her? She’s a phenomenal chef. But I’ve been here longer. I might be able to help. And she’ll need to start prepping as soon as possible.”

“I can’t let you go work with her until I’m confident that you aren’t a threat to her safety.”

“I’m not.” Amos sat straighter. “I know what happened to her. And I know she’s scared. But she needs to be more confident. More assertive.”

“And you think waving a knife at her will help her with that?” Donovan’s face was so serene that Cassie knew it for a mask.

“Of course not. But she should have called me on it. She should have told me to put the knife away. She also should have told that guest that he could take his dessert and be grateful for it. The one she gave him? That was hers. I’d made itfor her. She loves chocolate and raspberry, and she works hard. But instead of standing up for herself, she gave it away.”

Cassie turned and ran out of the restaurant. And she kept running until she came to the rock wall by the small creek that ran through The Haven’s property. The wall was just two feet high, and she climbed over it and slid down on the other side.

This wasn’t her first time in this spot. There were trees and mountain laurel and large rocks everywhere and it felt like her own little secret garden.

She brought her knees up to her chin, wrapped her arms around her legs, and stared at the water. Her tears were silent and she made no move to halt them.

When had she become this person? Someone who couldn’t see the good in others? Who didn’t believe in herself enough to fight for what she wanted?

She knew the answer.

And she hated it.

Father, please forgive me.

She owed Amos an apology. He was a fragile spirit, and instead of trying to find out what was going on, she’d let him disrespect her and her role. From what she’d overheard, he wasn’t even all that angry about her taking Chef Louis’s position.

Father, I don’t want to be afraid all the time.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket. She pulled it out to look.

Donovan.

Time to face the music. “Hello.” Her voice was scratchy and sounded awful. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Hello.”

“I don’t think Amos is going to give you any trouble. Would you like me to send him to the breakfast kitchen?”

“Yes.”

“Would you like some company?”

She stared at the river. She shouldn’t. But ... she did. “Yes. I’m—”

“I know where you are. Mo followed you out.”

“And he told you?”

“Shocked me too. Be there in a minute.”

When he climbed over the wall to join her, he muttered, “When in Rome,” and took a seat on the ground beside her. “I may be seeing things, but isn’t that a swing over there?” He pointed to the porch swing that had been hung from a tree near the river.

“It is. But sometimes I need to feel the ground.” She patted the grass where she sat. “Some people call it forest bathing.”

Donovan snorted. “You made that up.”

She bumped his shoulder with hers. “It’s a goofy name for getting out in nature. I try to spend some time outdoors every day. It’s good for my mental health. And”—she pointed to the garden around them—“I feel closer to God in a garden like this.”

“Fair enough.”

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