3. Judged
3
JUDGED
KENZIE
I fold the last towel and place it neatly in the basket, taking a moment to smooth out the wrinkles. It's become a ritual of sorts—finding order in the chaos, a way to keep my mind from spiraling.
After a week in Silver Ridge, I'm still trying to understand how my life took such a sharp turn.
The door creaks open, and Steph pokes her head in, that warm smile already putting me at ease. "There you are sugar. Got a minute?"
"'Course," I say, returning her smile.
There's something about Steph that radiates kindness like she has an endless well of patience and understanding. No wonder she runs this place.
She steps into the laundry room, her hands tucked into the pockets of her faded jeans. "I've been meaning to ask—have you thought about what you might want to do while you're here?"
I pause, considering her words. Truth is, I haven't let myself think much past getting through each day. The plan was to get to Silver Ridge, find a job, and save enough to move on. But after that disastrous first night...
My cheeks flush at the memory of Ian's overbearing kiss and Paige's scathing words echoing in my mind. Homewrecking whore . But ain't no use dwelling on the past.
"I'm happy to keep helping out here however I can," I say finally, meeting Steph's gaze. "Just point me where you need me."
She nods, seeming to consider her next words carefully. "Well, I was thinking... if you're looking for something more permanent, we could use an extra set of hands over at the consignment shop."
My eyes widen at the unexpected offer. "The shop? You mean... like a job?"
"Well, it ain't much," Steph admits with a self-deprecating chuckle. "Mostly just helping sort donations, keeping things tidy. But it's honest work, and it'd give you a chance to leave the shelter for a bit."
I open my mouth, then close it again, suddenly at a loss for words. A job. An actual paying gig in this little town that seems determined to reject me at every turn. It's more than I could've hoped for.
"Miss Steph, I... I don't know what to say," I manage finally, my voice thick with emotion. "That would be amazing."
She waves a dismissive hand, but I can see the pleased glint in her eyes. "It's the least we can do after you landed in the middle of this mess."
I wince at her words, the sting of that first night still fresh. But there's no accusation in Steph's tone, only warmth and understanding.
"Speaking of..." I venture cautiously. "Does this mean... I can stay? Here, I mean. At the shelter."
Steph's face softens, and she places a comforting hand on my arm. "Honey, you can stay as long as you need. This place is for folks lookin' to get back on their feet and find their way again. And from where I'm standin', you could use a little help with that."
I blink rapidly, willing the tears not to fall. I’m not about to start blubbering like a baby after I've worked so hard to keep it together this past week.
"Thank you," I whisper, my voice barely audible. "I don't know how I'll ever repay you."
"Aw, sugar." Steph pulls me into a fierce hug, and I can't stop the tears from spilling over this time. "You just focus on taking care of yourself, you hear? The rest'll work itself out."
I nod against her shoulder, letting her comforting scent of laundry detergent and something vaguely floral wash over me.
“I’ll get with Mel to see when she can get you set up.”
The door bangs open again and slams close. "Mamma? You in here?"
I pull back, swiping at my damp cheeks as Mel strides in, her usual sunny grin firmly in place.
"There you two are!" she exclaims, taking in the scene with a raised eyebrow. "Everything okay?"
"Just fine, Melanie," Steph says, her tone gently chiding as she uses Mel's full name. "I was just offering our girl Kenzie here a job at the shop."
Mel's eyes light up, and she turns that megawatt smile on me. "No kidding? Kenz, that's amazing!"
I can't help but return her infectious enthusiasm, even as a tiny voice in the back of my mind whispers that it's too good to be true.
“Ain't nothing in life free,” Meme used to say. “Not even kindness.”
"I'll start as soon as I'm done here," I confirm, gesturing to the laundry baskets. "Miss Steph said you could show me the ropes?"
"You know it, girl!" Mel crows, already bouncing on the balls of her feet. "We're gonna have a blast. "
I laugh at her exuberance, feeling lighter than I have in days. "I'll hold you to that."
Steph shakes her head with a fond chuckle. "All right, you two. I'm gonna leave you to it. Mel, Kenzie's all yours once she's finished up."
"You got it, boss lady," Mel says with a wink and a sassy salute.
As Steph heads out, I can't resist calling after her. "Hey, Miss Steph?"
She pauses in the doorway, eyebrows raised in question.
"Thank you," I say again, pouring every ounce of sincerity into those two small words. "For everything."
Her face softens into that warm, motherly smile that makes me ache for Meme. "Anytime, sugar. Now get to work—can't have you slackin' off on your first day!"
I laugh, the sound bubbling up from somewhere deep inside me. As the door swings shut behind her, I turn to find Mel watching me with an unreadable expression.
"What?" I ask self-consciously, suddenly aware of the tear tracks on my cheeks.
She shakes her head, that brilliant grin stretching across her face again. "Nothing. I'm just really glad you' re here, Kenz."
The sincerity in her words catches me off guard, and I blink rapidly to keep a fresh wave of tears at bay.
"Me too," I manage finally, clearing my throat. "Now, you gonna help me finish up here or what?"
Mel's eyes sparkle. "Does a bear shit in the woods?"
"You’re a mess." I snort out a laugh, already feeling the tension easing from my shoulders.
"You know it, girl!" She scoops up a pile of towels and starts folding with practiced efficiency. "Now spill—what’s life like in the big city?"
I shake my head, a wry smile tugging at my lips as I join her. Maybe this job is just what I need to take my mind off that train wreck of the first night. As I launch into a story about Kendrick and I getting chased out of the community garden by an angry old man with a broom, I can't help but hope that Mel's right.
That may be the case, but I can find my place in this little town.
A few hours later, Mel and I stroll down Main Street, our bellies full of pancakes and coffee from Millie's Diner. I take a deep breath, savoring the crisp mountain air and the warm, buttery scent that seems to cling to this little town.
"Not too bad, huh?" Mel nudges me with her elbow, grinning. "Told you Millie's was the best."
I shake my head in mock exasperation. "All right, I'll give you that one. Those pancakes were pretty much heaven on a plate."
"See? I'm always right." She sticks out her tongue playfully. "You'd do well to remember that, newbie."
I laugh, the sound feeling more natural with each passing moment in Mel's company. "Is that so? Well, maybe you'd better be showing me around this place."
"You got it!" She loops her arm through mine, practically skipping down the sidewalk as she launches into what I assume is the full history of Silver Ridge.
I try to pay attention. I really do. But my gaze keeps getting drawn to the quaint storefronts lining Main Street, each seeming to radiate its unique charm. There's a rustic timber-framed building with the words "Garrison's General Store" painted across the weathered sign, its wide porch dotted with rocking chairs that beg to be sat in.
Next door, a bakery's window is filled with an array of mouthwatering treats, the kind of sugary confections that would've had Meme sending me into the kitchen to bake her some cookies.
That woman had a crazy sweet tooth. She loved my bread, cakes, cookies, pies.
As we pass by, I press my face up to the glass, drinking in the sight of the elaborately decorated cupcakes and pies. A low whistle slips past my lips.
"Damn, I think I just gained five pounds from looking at that," I murmur, only half-joking.
Mel laughs, giving my arm a playful tug. "Come on, Kenz. You know that's against the rules."
"What rules?" I ask distractedly, still mesmerized by the baked goods.
"No drooling over sweets until after you've worked your first full day at the shop," she teases. "Gotta make sure you earn those extra calories."
I tear my gaze away from the bakery window with a longing sigh. "Yes, ma'am. You're the boss."
"Don't you forget it!" She winks at me, that sunny grin firmly in place.
We continue down the street, my eyes drinking in every detail of this picture-perfect little town. From the lovingly tended flower boxes overflowing with bright blooms to the quaint park with its old-fashioned lampposts and wrought-iron benches, it's like something straight out of a storybook.
Part of me can't quite believe this is real—that places like Silver Ridge still exist in our modern world. It's all too easy to get caught up in the hustle and bustle of city life, to let the grit and grime dull all the bright, shiny things.
But here? In this charming little mountain haven? It's like someone hit the pause button on the relentless march of time. I find myself longing to soak it all in, to revel in the quiet simplicity of a place where people still take the time to stop and enjoy life.
"You're awfully quiet over there," Mel's voice breaks through my reverie. "Everything okay?"
I blink, refocusing on her concerned expression. "What? Oh, yeah, I'm good. Just... taking it all in, I guess."
She nods in understanding. "It's a lot, huh? Especially coming from the big city."
"That's one way to put it," I chuckle. "This place is like something out of a dream."
"More like a nightmare if you ask me," a new voice cuts in, laced with derision.
I spin toward the sound, my heart plummeting as I take in the all-too-familiar face sneering at me from across the street.
Paige is decked out in designer clothes that cost more than my entire wardrobe. And she's not alone.
Flanking her are two other impeccably dressed women, their expressions twisted into matching looks of disdain as they follow Paige's gaze to me.
Shit . Here we go again.
"Well, well," Paige drawls, her ruby-red lips curving into a mocking smile. "If it isn't the little homewrecker herself."
I open my mouth, a biting retort on the tip of my tongue. But Mel beats me to it, stepping forward with her hands planted firmly on her hips.
"Can it, Paige," she snaps, her voice ringing with authority. "We were having a perfectly nice morning until you showed up."
Paige's eyes narrow, but there's a flash of uncertainty in their icy depths as she takes in Mel's defensive stance. I get the feeling these two have history—and not the good kind.
"Melanie," she says finally, her tone sickly sweet in a way that sets my teeth on edge. "I didn't realize you were keeping such... interesting company these days."
One of the other women—a tall, willowy brunette with dramatic makeup—lets out a derisive snort. "What, you're friends with trash now? That's low, even for you."
White-hot anger lances through me at her words, momentarily robbing me of speech. I've been called plenty of names in my life, but there's something about how this stranger sneers at it like I'm something she scraped off the bottom of her shoe.
Beside me, I can feel Mel tensing, her entire body vibrating with barely contained fury. I think she might launch herself across the street for a split second and claw that woman's eyes out.
Then, just as quickly as it came, the tension drains from her in a long, slow exhale. Her voice is low and measured when she speaks again—and all the more terrifying for it.
"Listen up, Heather, 'cause I'm only gonna say this once," she bites out, her words clipped and precise. "You don't want to start something you can't finish, you feel me?"
The other woman—Heather, I guess—falters, her bravado slipping as she takes in the steel behind Mel's words. Paige, however, remains infuriatingly composed, her signature smirk firmly in place.
"My, my," she murmurs, shaking her head in mock disappointment. "Such language from the mouth of a good Christian girl. What would your mother say?"
Mel's jaw tightens, but she holds Paige's gaze, refusing to be cowed. "My mamma taught me to call bullshit when I see it, and you reek of it. And standing around letting you tear into my friend ain't about to happen."
Tension crawls through my body.
Part of me wants to grab Mel and hightail it out of here before things get really ugly. But the other part—the part that's spent too many years being dismissed and looked down on—won't let me back down so easily.
I step forward until I'm shoulder-to-shoulder with Mel, holding Paige's gaze steadily.
"You got a problem with me, Paige?" I ask, keeping my voice carefully neutral. "Or are you just looking to start drama 'cause your life is that sad and empty?"
There's a sharp intake of breath from the other two women—clearly, they weren't expecting me to fight back. But Paige doesn't so much as blink, her perfectly arched brows raised in a look of mild surprise.
"My, someone's grown a backbone," she muses, giving me an appraising once-over. "I must admit, Mackenzie, I'm a little impressed."
The way she says my name, all drawn out and dripping with condescension, makes me want to punch her smug face. But I hold my ground, refusing to let her get under my skin.
"Yeah, well, you'd be surprised what a girl's capable of when she's got nothing left to lose," I shoot back, allowing a hint of challenge to bleed into my tone.
Paige's eyes narrow fractionally, but that infuriating smirk never wavers. "Is that so? Well, in that case, allow me to lay it all out for you."
She takes a step forward, her gaze boring into mine with an unsettling intensity.
"This is my town, Mackenzie," she says, her voice low and laced with quiet menace. "I was born and raised here, just like my parents and their parents before them. My family helped build this place from the ground up, and we're owed a certain... respect because of that. "
The word respect drips from her tongue like something foul, and I have to resist the urge to roll my eyes. Here we go with the small-town superiority complex.
"So you'll forgive me if I'm not exactly thrilled to have some... outsider waltzing in and stirring up trouble," Paige continues, each word a carefully sharpened blade. "Especially one with a penchant for going after other women's husbands."
Anger flares hot in my chest, but I tamp it down, refusing to take her bait. "For the last time, I had no idea Ian was married when I met him. He never?—"
"Save it," Paige cuts me off with a disdainful flick of her hand. "I don't want to hear your pathetic excuses. The fact is, you're nothing but a little tramp who tried to seduce my husband. And mark my words, you'll pay .”
Paige's words hang heavy in the air, and that last threat lingers like a bad smell. I brace myself for whatever venom she's about to spit next, my fists clenched at my sides.
But before she can unleash another round of insults, Mel steps forward, her chin raised in defiance. "That's enough outta you, Paige."
Mel's voice has a steely edge that I haven't heard before. Gone is the sunny, playful girl from just moments ago—in her place stands a woman who means business.
Paige arches one perfectly groomed eyebrow, her lips curving into a mocking smile. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me," Mel says, her tone leaving no room for argument. "We all know the kind of reputation Ian's got in this town. So why don't you save the righteous act for someone who actually believes it?"
A titter of laughter ripples through the small crowd gathered to watch the show. Paige's cheeks flush an angry crimson, but she holds her ground, glaring daggers at Mel.
"How dare you?—"
"How dare I what?" Mel cuts her off, taking another step forward. "Call out your bullshit? Please, Paige. We've all seen this song and dance before."
There's a heavy silence, the weight of Mel's words seeming to press down on the entire street. I can't help but stare at her in awe, this woman I barely know standing up for me against Paige's vicious attack.
Finally, Paige lets out a huff of disdainful laughter, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "You'll regret this, Melanie."
"Whatever you say, Paige. Just do us all a favor and take your drama somewhere else?"
With one last withering glare, Paige spins on her designer heel and stalks off down the street, her minions scurrying to keep up. The little crowd slowly disperses, the excitement over for now .
I let out a shaky breath, feeling like I can finally uncurl my fists. "Damn, Mel..."
She turns to me with a wry grin, the fire in her eyes already fading back to that warm, playful glint I'm getting used to. "What can I say? Someone's gotta keep that one in check."
I laugh, the sound bubbling up from somewhere deep in my chest. "Girl, you're a force to be reckoned with, you know that?"
Mel winks, looping her arm through mine once more. "You're just figuring that out? Come on, let's blow this popsicle stand. I could use a strong cup of coffee after that little showdown."
As we head off down the street, I can't shake the feeling that I just witnessed the first round in what's sure to be an ongoing battle with Paige. But for now, I've got an ally in my corner.
And something tells me Mel's the kind of friend you want on your side when the claws come out.
Thirty minutes later, we settle onto a bench outside the café, steaming mugs of coffee cradled in our hands. I take a sip, letting the rich, bitter flavor wash over my tongue.
"So," Mel says after a few beats of comfortable silence. "You wanna tell me what that was all about back there?"
I pause, the mug hovering halfway to my lips as I study her expression. There's no judgment there, just open curiosity and maybe a hint of concern.
With a sigh, I set the coffee aside, bracing myself. "You mean with Paige and her whole 'homewrecker' song and dance?"
Mel nods, her gaze steady and unflinching. "Yeah. And the blow-up at the bus station the other day... what's really going on?"
A part of me wants to deflect, to brush it off with some sassy quip and change the subject. But there's something about Mel—something disarmingly honest that makes me want to level with her.
"All right, you want the truth?" I say, meeting her eyes squarely. "The whole truth is, I had no damn idea Ian was married when I met him."
Mel's brows knit together, but she doesn't interrupt, just nods for me to continue.
"It all started a few years back," I explain, the words tumbling out in a rush now that I've started. "My twin brother, Kendrick, is locked up, and he introduced me to his friend—Ian."
I slump for a second, remembering how naive and desperate for connection I'd been back then. "I don't know, I guess Ian and I just... clicked , you know? We started writing letters back and forth, and before I knew it, we were talking on the phone for hours."
Unbidden, the memory of those conversations resurface, Ian's smooth voice in my ear making me feel things I didn't even know were possible. A flush creeps up my neck as I push the thought away.
"Anyway," I continue gruffly. "After a while, Ian got out, and he was the one who suggested I come out to Silver Ridge for a fresh start. He said he had a place for me here and that we could... I don't know, figure things out in person."
Mel's expression is unreadable as I trail off, suddenly unable to meet her eyes. "I know, I know. It was stupid of me to fall for some guy's line like that. But Ian, he... he made me feel special, you know? Like I mattered."
The words hang heavy between us, laid bare for Mel to judge or dismiss. I brace myself for the inevitable—the lecture about being more careful, the warning that I'm just asking for trouble.
But when Mel speaks again, her voice is soft, almost gentle. "Kenzie... did you know he was married when you came here?"