Chapter 15
Willow
I begin the next morning enveloped in a profound sense of fullness.
It’s a warmth that radiates through my limbs and settles deep in my core.
It illuminates every corner of my being, even though I hesitate to name it love, at least not aloud.
But the way I feel is real and the tenderness growing inside me is perilously close to that very emotion.
Last night's dinner lingers in my memory as a cocoon of quiet intimacy. The key, now resting on my bedside table with its red ribbon coiled around it, is like a cherished secret.
As I step into the bakery before work, drawn by the irresistible pull of a cinnamon roll, Willa's eyes widen with instant recognition. Her voice transforms into a sing-song sweetness as she declares, "Someone had a good night."
I feign innocence with a casual reply about sleeping well, only for her to counter with a knowing grin.
By the time I arrive at City Hall, Avery is already stationed at her desk, clutching her coffee mug as if bracing for some impending storm, and the moment she spots me, a tiny, strangled shriek escapes her lips, followed by an exuberant proclamation that "Oh, My God.
Who did this?" This leaves me blinking in confusion as I ask what she means.
She thrusts her phone toward me and explains about the late-night delivery to Santa's sleigh staging area at the volunteer area outside town. I scroll through the photos on her phone. There are boxes upon boxes of toys, crafts, dolls, and everything imaginable. It’s enough to ensure every child in Hope Peak receives a gift this year.
The message says the toys are from a mystery donor.
My heart stutters to a halt as she takes back her phone, her eyes glittering with excitement while she scrolls through details of old-fashioned wooden trains, fuzzy animals, and little maker kits.
My fingers tighten around my bag strap. I find myself inhaling slowly, cautioning against assumptions.
But a part of me knows it might be Graham.
When Avery tilts her head and asks if I know anything about it, I respond softly and honestly that I don't, though I suspect who might, and she mouths "Sinclair" like a secret incantation just as Spencer strolls in, glancing between us with curiosity before
Avery blurts out the news of the Christmas miracle at the sleigh barn. “So many toys, with no one claiming credit.”
Spencer claims that it wasn't a miracle but simply someone stepping up. But he pauses briefly before lifting an eyebrow in my direction, which warms my cheeks. I turn, diving into vendor checklists, updates, and highlighted notes.
Yet throughout the morning, every passerby at the front desk carries the same whispers drifting through the air. "Did you hear about the toys? Someone must’ve donated thousands. No note? Who does that? Was it the resort guy? A fundraiser? Maybe someone just wanted kids to have a good Christmas."
Meanwhile, no one actually utters Graham's name, not out of ignorance. It’s simply that this small town guards generosity like fragile ornaments, avoiding any jinx that might shatter the magic. And I find myself feeling the same way about Graham … about the key.
By lunch, the glow within me has deepened into something softer and more certain.
If Graham did purchase all those toys, he didn't orchestrate this for attention or to gain the town’s approval of his project.
He didn’t confide in me or anyone else. He simply observed a need and filled it quietly, without fanfare.
Around mid-afternoon, Avery pops her head into my office, her eyes still bright with the day's gossip as she informs me that the toy donation is the sole topic buzzing through town, with odds pegged at ninety-eight percent that it's "your man" behind it.
This prompts me to arch a brow at the phrase "my man," only for her to purr that oh, he is definitely mine.
This draws a laugh from me as I roll my eyes.
But deep down, her words plant a seed I'm content to nurture.
I don't voice it aloud, but I feel the truth of it resonating within me.
As I leave City Hall for the day, the wind picks up, sweeping snow from the rooftops in soft, glittering waves that transform the world into a cold, bright, and shimmering expanse, and for the first time in what feels like an eternity, I find myself shimmering along with it.