Page 20 of The Hellkeeper

I settle for not lying to her, but not telling her the complete truth either.

“I’m stupidly homesick,” I admit. “Even though the village was—” I shake my head. “Horrific.”

She doesn’t judge me. “What do you miss most?”

The answer comes easily.

“My mother,” I say quietly. “And the peonies.”

Margaret nods like she gets it. “Flowers were always a comfort to me, too.”

The conversation shifts after that, flowing back into work, customers, and the hum of the morning rush. But a realization slams into me. I never told her about the Hellkeeper. Just the curse. I open my mouth to ask, but then I shake my head. I must have mentioned it sometime without realizing.

I head toward the girl who just sat down near the window, her order in my hand. She looks about my age, and the first thing I notice is her energy, it's warm and comforting, like that of an angel.

“Here you go,” I say, setting the plate in front of her. “French toast. Enjoy.”

Her eyes light up. “Oh, wow, this looks delicious. Thank you!”

“Are you new?” she quickly adds when I turn to leave.

“Kind of,” I say. “I’ve been working here for a little while now.”

“Well, I’m glad I came in today, then. I’m Ruby, by the way.”

“Amelia.”

“Nice to meet you, Amelia.” She takes a bite of the toast. “Okay, this is so good. I think you just found yourself a regular customer.”

“That’s good to hear. Margaret—she owns this place—makes everything from scratch. She’ll be happy to know it’s a hit.”

This morning is slower than usual, so we fall into easy conversation. She tells me about her job at a little bakery down the street, how she loves reading but can never find anyone to talk books with. I tell her about working here, how it’s nice but busy, and how sweet Margaret is. It’s been a while since I’ve clicked with someone like this.

“You should totally give me your number. We could go out sometime, just talk and get to know each other better.”

The moment the words leave her mouth, my stomach twists.I don’t have a phone.

Insecurity prickles at my skin, and I open my mouth, ready to admit it, until I see the innocent curiosity in her face. I don’t want to see pity there.

So I lie.

“Ah, well, my phone’s, uh, broken,” I say, forcing a sheepish smile. “I’m getting it fixed, though. I’ll give you my number then.”

Ruby blinks, then laughs. “Oh, gotcha.” She winks. “Guess I’ll just have to keep coming here for breakfast until you give it to me.”

I snort. “Not the worst plan.”

She slides a bill under her plate as she stands. “Well, I’ll see you soon, Amelia. Don’t forget to fix that phone of yours.”

“I won’t,” I say as I walk her to the door.

The second she’s gone, another wave of insecurity hits me. I didn’t really fit in back in my village, but I want to fit in here. I want somewhere I can belong. That’s why I will get a phone. Maybe tomorrow. Damien, my monster, left me a huge tip last time. I can spare a little.

My fingers tighten around my apron.

I called him mine.

I frown.

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