Page 23 of Bully Alpha's Secret Baby

Now, as I walk through Starfire Hollow with Penny in tow, I’m thinking more about my future. Specifically, how I need to secure one that doesn’t rely on Damien. Yeah, he’s rich. Like, private-jet, vacation-in-the-Maldives kind of rich. But the last thing I want is to be stuck depending on him, especially if things go sideways again. And let’s be real—things have a way of going sideways in my life.

“Mama, look!” Penny’s little hand tugs at my sleeve, pulling me out of my thoughts. She’s pointing at a bakery window, her nose practically pressed against the glass as she stares at the rows of cookies and cakes on display. Her eyes are filled with that pure, innocent excitement only a kid can pull off.

I smile down at her. “You like those, huh?”

She nods vigorously, and her dark hair bounces around her face. “Can we get one? Please?”

I can’t help but laugh. “Maybe later, sweetie. Mama’s got something important to do first.”

“Important” meaning job-hunting, which, let me tell you, is not nearly as fun as it was when I was a teenager. I’ve already hit up a couple of the local shops, and so far, the results have been… disappointing, to say the least. Apparently, everyone in Starfire Hollow is fully staffed, or they just don’t want to take a chance on the outcast-turned-witch.

I sigh and glance down at Penny, whose little face is still glued to the bakery window. She deserves more than this. More than me dragging her around town, begging for work. More than being caught in the middle of whatever mess is happening with Damien and the packs bordering Glory Town.

We keep walking, and I spot another store—an art supply shop with “Help Wanted” scribbled on a chalkboard sign outside. It feels like a bit of hope on an otherwise frustrating morning.

“This looks promising,” I tell myself as I push open the door, and the bell above tinkles with that quaint small-town charm. Penny follows close behind, still holding onto the toy wolf she refuses to go anywhere without.

The shop smells like paint and paper, and it’s oddly comforting. The kind of place I could see myself working, surrounded by creativity and color instead of pack politics and judgmental stares.

A woman in her mid-forties with a head of wild curls and a colorful scarf wrapped around her neck greets me from behind the counter. “Hi there! Can I help you with something?”

“Actually,” I begin, trying to sound more confident than I feel, “I saw the sign outside about the job. I was wondering if it’s still available?”

The woman’s eyes brighten. “Oh, yes! We’re definitely hiring. Have you worked in retail before?”

“A little,” I say, though that’s a bit of a stretch. I started an Etsy shop a few years ago that flopped, and I’m not sure that counts, but I’m resourceful. I can figure it out.

She smiles and gestures toward the back of the store. “Why don’t we sit down and talk about it? I’d love to get to know you.”

I follow her to a small table near the back, where the air smells even more like paint and possibility. Penny plops down next to me, swinging legs beneath the chair.

The woman—Margaret, as she introduces herself—clasps her hands in front of herself. “So, tell me about yourself. What brings you here?”

“Well,” I begin, trying to find the right words that don’t scream “former pack outcast,” “I’ve been away for a while, but I’m back now. Just looking to get back on my feet.”

Margaret nods. “I get that. It’s tough out there, especially these days.” She glances at Penny and smiles. “And this little one must keep you busy.”

I chuckle. “She does. But I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

The conversation continues smoothly enough, and for a moment, I let myself believe that this could work out. But then, as I finish filling out an official application while I explain how great I am at organizing things, Margaret’s smile falters as she peers where I’ve just written my name. Her smile falters.

“Jade Thornton?”

My stomach drops. “Uh… yeah.”

“Donald and Maureen Thornton’s daughter?”

“That’s me.” I’m already deflating in my chair. I know where this is going.

Margaret nods, and her smile returns, but this one is not nearly as warm. In fact, I’d call it forced. “I thought so. I’ve heard… well, you know how small towns are.”

“Right.” I keep my tone light, but I can already feel the rejection coming.

She hesitates for a moment, then sighs. “Look, Jade, you seem lovely, and I’d love to give you a chance, but…” Her voice trails off, and she gives me a sympathetic look. “People around here… they still talk. There are a lot of strong opinions about witches. I just don’t think it would be a good fit.”

Of course. Because no matter how much time passes, people will always see me as the witch who got kicked out of Starfire Hollow.

I want to punch something, but my daughter is right here, so instead, I simply say, “I understand.”

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