Chapter Eight
Raven woke to the sound of her phone having a complete nervous breakdown.
It was buzzing so violently on the bedside table that it had actually moved several inches toward the edge, and the screen was lit up like a Christmas tree. Notification after notification scrolled past, too fast to read.
For a moment, she just stared at it, her brain still foggy with sleep.
Then she remembered.
The Instagram Live.
"Oh, shit."
She’d switched it off as fast as she could, but what was out in the world was already out in the world and there wasn’t much she could do about that.
She grabbed the phone and unlocked it, and immediately wished she hadn't.
@ravenfan4eva: OMG THE NEIGHBOR IN THE DINOSAUR PAJAMAS I'M DYING
@krimsonkissesfan: Who is she??? She's adorable!!!
@musiclover2025: "I have school in the morning" I CANNOT
@ravenhall_updates: This is the cutest thing I've ever seen #AdorableTeacher #GrumpyRockstar
The comments went on. And on. And on.
Raven scrolled up to the top of her notifications and saw the video thumbnail: herself standing in the doorway, guitar in hand, looking confused and irritated. And there, just visible in the frame behind her, was Annabelle.
In those ridiculous dinosaur pajamas.
Smiling that relentlessly kind smile.
Looking like an absolute ray of sunshine at, Raven checked the timestamp, half past twelve.
The video had over five hundred thousand views.
"Oh, crap."
Her phone buzzed again, this time with a call. Claire's name flashed on the screen.
Raven answered it with a sinking sense of dread. "Before you say anything—"
"What the hell were you thinking?"
"I wasn't! I was just—"
"You broadcasted your location to half a million people. Your neighbor is all over social media. Do you have any idea how many think pieces are already circulating about 'Raven’s Village Retreat' and 'The Teacher Who Stole a Rockstar's Heart'?"
"That's not…she didn't…we're not—" Raven pressed her palm against her forehead. "Claire, I swear, I had no idea she was even there. The phone was on the mantle. I didn’t think…"
There was a long pause. When Claire spoke again, her voice had shifted from furious to dangerously calm. "You didn't think."
"Clearly not."
"Raven, this is a privacy violation. You recorded someone without their consent. In their pajamas. At gone midnight. Do you understand how bad this could get if she decides to press charges or go to the press?"
"She's not going to—" Raven stopped. Actually, she had no idea what Annabelle would do. She barely knew the woman. "She wouldn't."
"You don't know that."
"I do know that. She's…" Raven struggled for words. "She's aggressively nice. She'll probably just…"
"Just what? Forgive you? Laugh it off?" Claire's voice was sharp.
"Get your head out of your arse, Raven. This woman is a primary school teacher.
Her reputation matters. And you just exposed her to hundreds of thousands of strangers while she was standing in your doorway in dinosaur pajamas asking you to be quiet. "
The guilt hit like a punch to the stomach.
Raven sat up, running a hand through her hair. "Shit."
"Yes. Shit." Claire exhaled slowly. "You need to apologize. Properly. Not some half-arsed text or DM. Go to her house. Explain what happened. And for God's sake, make sure she knows you've deleted the video."
"I can't delete it. It's already been screen-recorded by about fifty thousand people."
"Then do damage control. Talk to her. Make this right." Claire paused. "And Raven? Stop doing Instagram Lives at midnight. Your impulse control is appalling."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence."
"I'm serious. You're supposed to be lying low, remember? Writing an album? Not becoming a viral meme."
"I remember," Raven said tiredly. "I'll fix it."
"You'd better." Claire hung up.
Raven sat on the edge of the bed, staring at her phone. The comments were still coming in, faster than before. Someone had created a gif of Annabelle's gentle smile. Another person had made a compilation of "the top ten most patient people in the world" and put Annabelle at number one.
And underneath it all, a growing thread of comments about how "cute" they were together, how Annabelle was "exactly what Raven needs," how this was the beginning of some great romance novel.
Raven wanted to throw her phone out the window.
Instead, she got dressed.
BY THE TIME she'd rehearsed her apology, made coffee she couldn't drink, and paced the sitting room approximately seventy times, it was half past eight in the morning.
Too early to knock on someone's door. Too late to pretend this wasn't happening.
Raven grabbed her jacket and went next door anyway.
Annabelle's cottage was somehow even more aggressively cheerful in the daylight. There were flowers in the window boxes and a doormat that read Welcome! in swirling script.
Raven knocked.
No answer.
She knocked again, louder this time, and then remembered: Annabelle was a teacher. She'd have left for school already.
Of course she had. It was a Thursday morning. Normal people with normal jobs went to work on Thursday mornings.
Raven stood on the doorstep feeling like an idiot, then turned and walked back to her own cottage.
Fine. She'd try again later. In the evening, when Annabelle was home. She'd apologize properly, explain what happened, and hope to God that Annabelle didn't hate her.
Though, honestly, at this point, Raven wouldn't blame her if she did.
THE DAY DRAGGED on longer and longer.
Raven tried to write, but every time she picked up her guitar, all she could think about was Annabelle's face on that video. The way she'd smiled even while asking Raven to keep the noise down. The way she'd apologized for bothering her.
The way Raven had just stood there like a complete idiot, barely said two words, and then shut the door.
She should have remembered the phone was still recording. Should have been paying attention. Should have done literally anything other than what she'd actually done.
By the time five o'clock rolled around, Raven had worked herself into a state of low-level panic.
What if Annabelle did go to the press? What if she was furious and just hiding it behind that relentless politeness? What if Raven had completely ruined any chance of having a peaceful existence in this village?
She forced herself to wait until half past five, surely that was a reasonable time for someone to be home from work, and then went next door again.
This time, Annabelle answered on the second knock.
She was still wearing her school clothes: a cheerful yellow cardigan over a floral dress, and she had a pencil tucked behind one ear. When she saw Raven, her face lit up with that same bright smile.
"Oh! Hello!"
Raven's carefully rehearsed apology evaporated from her brain.
"Hi. Um, can I come in? I need to talk to you about something."
"Of course." Annabelle stepped back, opening the door wider. "Come in, come in. I've just put the kettle on. Would you like tea?"
"I… yeah, sure. Thanks." Raven followed her inside.
The interior of the cottage was exactly what she'd thought it would be: cozy, cluttered with books and plants, and smelling faintly of biscuits and lavender. There were children's drawings stuck to the fridge with magnets, and a pile of marking on the kitchen table.
"Sit, sit." Annabelle gestured to the table, already bustling around the kitchen to fetch mugs. "Sugar? Milk?"
"Just black, thanks." Raven sat, feeling more uncomfortable by the second. "Listen, Annabelle, I need to—"
"I saw the video!" Annabelle said brightly, setting a mug in front of her. "Well, Nina showed it to me at lunch. The children thought it was hilarious."
Raven's stomach dropped. "The children saw it?"
"Oh, only a few of them. Some of the parents follow you, apparently, and they showed their kids. Some of them don’t have social media, they’re a bit young.
" Annabelle sat down across from her, cradling her own mug.
"Jamie Long asked if you were really my neighbor, and I said yes, and he got very excited. He's a big fan, apparently."
"I…" Raven had no idea what to say to that. "Annabelle, I'm really sorry. I had no idea the phone was still recording. I mean, I knew, but I’d forgotten, and… well, then you knocked on the door."
"It's fine!" Annabelle said, waving a hand. "Really, it's no trouble."
"It's not fine. I violated your privacy. You didn't consent to being filmed, and now you're all over social media in your pajamas."
"The dinosaur ones!" Annabelle laughed. "My class from last year gave them to me for my birthday. They're very proud that I was wearing them on a famous person's Instagram."
Raven stared at her. "You're not upset?"
"Why would I be upset?"
"Because I recorded you without permission. Because hundreds of thousands of people have seen you. Because…" Raven gestured helplessly. "Because it was a massive invasion of your privacy,"
Annabelle tilted her head, considering this. "I suppose it was, technically. But you didn't mean to do it, did you?"
"No, but…"
"And you came over to apologize." Annabelle smiled. "That's very kind of you."
"It's not kind, it's basic decency."
"Well, I appreciate it anyway." Annabelle took a sip of her tea. "Besides, Nina thinks it's made me a bit of a local celebrity. Apparently people are calling me 'the teacher who tamed Raven.'" She laughed. "Which is ridiculous, obviously. You're not a wild animal."
Raven had no idea what to say to that either.
She'd spent all day preparing for anger, or hurt, or cold politeness. She hadn't prepared for this. For Annabelle to just…brush it off. To smile and make tea and act like nothing had happened.
"You're really not upset," Raven said slowly.
"I'm really not." Annabelle's smile softened.
"Look, I know you didn't mean for it to happen.
And honestly, if it helps the children see that you're just a normal person who makes mistakes sometimes, then maybe that's a good thing.
They think you're some kind of untouchable rock goddess, but you're just…
" She gestured at Raven. "You know. Human. "
"Human," Raven repeated.
"Exactly!" Annabelle beamed. "So please, don't worry about it. It's all fine."
Raven sat back in her chair, feeling distinctly wrong-footed.
She'd been prepared for confrontation. For conflict. For having to grovel and beg forgiveness.
She hadn't been prepared for Annabelle's relentless, baffling, irritating optimism.
"You're very strange," Raven said finally.
Annabelle laughed. "I've been told that before." She pushed a plate across the table. "Biscuit? I made them."
Raven looked at the biscuits. Then at Annabelle. Then back at the biscuits.
"You made biscuits," she said flatly.
Annabelle nodded.
Despite herself, despite everything, Raven took a biscuit.
It was, predictably, delicious.
"Thank you," she said grudgingly. "For being…I don't know. Reasonable about this."
"You're welcome." Annabelle topped up both their mugs. "And thank you for apologizing. Not everyone would have done that."
They sat in silence for a moment. Somewhere in the village, a church bell chimed the hour.
And Raven, sitting in her neighbor's cottage eating biscuits and drinking tea, realized that she had absolutely no idea how to handle someone like Annabelle Swift.
Someone who smiled when you were rude to her. Who forgave you before you'd finished apologizing. Who saw the best in people even when they'd given her every reason not to.
It was baffling.
And, Raven thought reluctantly, just slightly irritating.