8. Sadie
CHAPTER EIGHT
Sadie
The Foundry was alive in a way that caught me off guard.
I’d expected steady business—Medford had never been the kind of place where people let a good meal go to waste—but this?
This lunch time was a full-on rush. Tables packed, the low hum of conversation mixing with the clatter of plates, the sizzle from the grill, the scent of warm spices and grilled meats filling the air.
I took a long breath, adjusting my grip on the tray in my hands.
I liked this.
The pace, the movement, the way I could get lost in the rhythm of it all.
It kept my thoughts from wandering too far, from lingering on the life that had tossed me callously aside.
“Collins.” Adam’s voice cut through the noise, warm and teasing as he slid past me, a plate balanced effortlessly in one hand. “Still standing? I’m impressed.”
I rolled my eyes, sidestepping Samuel as he raced by. “What, you thought I’d fall apart after one shift?”
He grinned. “Not fall apart, no. But maybe need a minute to catch your breath. The Foundry’s got a way of keeping people on their toes.”
I huffed out a breath, surveying the dining area. “Yeah, no kidding. When did Medford get so busy?”
Adam let out a short laugh, setting a plate down at a nearby table before turning back to me. “I know, I’m surprised too. We’ve been lucky with the support from the town.”
I glanced toward the kitchen, where Samuel was focused on the grill, barking out orders, his movements precise and efficient.
Kai was at the bar, pouring a drink next to his latest cake creation.
And Adam…
I turned back to find him watching me, amusement flickering in his dark eyes.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing,” he said, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Just wondering what’s going on in that head of yours.”
I shook my head, shifting my tray to one hand as I moved toward the next table. “Nothing you need to worry about, Reid.”
Adam chuckled, following me as I set down a couple of drinks. “See, now you’ve got me curious.”
“Good,” I shot back. “Keeps you on your toes.”
He let out an exaggerated sigh. “And here I thought I was supposed to be training you.”
I smirked, glancing at him over my shoulder. “Guess you’ll have to keep up.”
His grin widened, sharp and knowing. “Oh, sugar, I intend to.”
Adam was everywhere.
And I had to admit, I kinda liked it.
I liked the way we bantered.
I could say what I wanted to him, and he threw it right back at me.
He leaned against the counter now, smirking as I struggled to balance a tray of drinks. “You sure you got that, sweetheart? Wouldn’t want to ruin that brand-new uniform.”
“Bite me, Reid,” I muttered, adjusting my grip.
I didn’t see him at first—I was too busy smirking at Adam, showing how well I could work—but I heard it.
A low, excited bark.
Then the frantic click click click of tiny paws scrambling across the hardwood floor.
“What the…”
A blur of tan fur shot out from the butchery section of The Foundry, moving at a speed that defied logic. A corgi, squat, mischievous, and unreasonably fast, bolted straight for me, a string of paper towels trailing from its mouth like some kind of victory flag.
“Biscuit!” someone hollered. “Get back here, you little gremlin!”
Biscuit shot through the dining area like a canine tornado, weaving between tables, a look of pure joy plastered across his furry face.
Customers laughed. One little girl clapped in delight.
“Aw, hell,” Adam muttered, already lunging forward. “I got him?—”
“No, I?—”
Too late.
Biscuit veered hard to the left… straight toward me.
“Nonononono—”
The corgi barreled directly into my legs.
I stumbled, the tray tilting dangerously. “Oh, sh?—”
My fingers fumbled, and the entire thing tipped. Everything happened in slow motion.
The drinks slipped, tilting at an impossible angle, the ice catching the overhead light as they tumbled toward the floor.
I sucked in a sharp breath, hands grasping at nothing, my brain scrambling to catch up even as I knew—I knew —there was no saving it.
The glass hit first.
A sharp, crystalline crack split the air, a shattering explosion that seemed to echo, stretching out impossibly long.
Ice scattered across the hardwood like tiny frozen marbles.
Liquid—cola, lemonade, something bright red—splashed outward, slow and syrupy, spreading in a widening stain across the floor.
Somewhere, someone gasped.
I stood frozen, pulse thrumming at my throat. My breath caught, my fingers still curled uselessly around the empty air where the tray had been.
But the worst part was that as the noise ricocheted through my skull, suddenly, I wasn’t in The Foundry anymore.
I was fourteen years old again.
The world flipped upside down.
The impact hit like a freight train, metal screeching, the sickening crunch of bones and breaking glass swallowing my parents’ screams.
My stomach lurched, the seatbelt digging into me like a serrated blade.
The world blurred… streetlights spinning, headlights flashing, everything a whirlwind of sound and motion until it all stopped.
Silence.
Then the scent of gasoline.
Pain ripped through my abdomen, white hot and unbearable.
I looked down, barely registering the gash torn across my stomach, my hoodie soaked in blood.
My hands shook as I reached for my parents, my voice breaking as I called out their names— “Mom? Dad? Lisa? James?” —but they didn’t answer.
They never would again.
I’d never be going back to Phoenix with them. Instead, it was off to Willow Creek for me, followed by Hayley’s home…
“Sadie.”
A voice broke through the memory, pulling me back.
I blinked hard, my breath coming too fast, too shallow.
I wasn’t in the wreckage… I was here, in The Foundry, standing in the middle of a mess of broken glass and spilled drinks.
The room had gone quiet, eyes turning toward me, the pressure of their stares squeezing my chest like a vice.
The silence didn’t last long.
“What the hell just happened?” Samuel’s voice cut across the dining room, sharp and tense.
I turned slightly, catching a glimpse of him as he rounded the corner from the kitchen, eyes scanning the wreckage before landing on me. His expression shifted instantly, frustration flickering into something closer to worry.
“You alright?” he asked, the gruff edge still there, but softened.
Kai was close behind, already moving with a damp towel in hand, his brow furrowed. He looked from the mess to the dog to me. “Sadie, are you hurt?”
“I’m fine,” I said, too fast.
Samuel took another step forward like he didn’t quite believe me, but Adam’s voice stopped him.
“I got her,” Adam said, firm and unflinching.
Kai looked between us, then nodded.
Samuel was watching me like I was made of glass and might shatter again at any second. “You sure?”
Adam didn’t look away from me as he said, “Yeah. Just… keep things running.”
Samuel gave me one last look before turning back toward the kitchen, muttering something under his breath that I couldn’t quite catch.
Kai lingered a moment longer. “Take your time,” he said, his voice low. “We’ve got this.”
“Sadie,” Adam said again, softer this time.
I forced myself to look at him.
He was frowning, his eyes scanning my face like he knew… like he saw something I hadn’t meant to show.
“I…” My voice cracked. I swallowed hard, forcing out a tight, “I’m fine.”
But my hands still trembled as I bent to pick up the shattered pieces.
Adam crouched down beside me before I could reach for the broken glass. His warm hand closed over mine, stopping me.
“Don’t,” he murmured, his voice gentle in a way that had my breath hitching. “You’ll cut yourself.”
I stared at his hand over mine, at the way his thumb brushed absently against my knuckles, grounding me.
My pulse was still racing, the memory of the crash lingering at the edges of my mind, threatening to pull me back under.
“I can handle it,” I said, but even I could hear the tremor in my voice.
Adam didn’t argue. He just held my gaze for a long moment, flames flickering in his dark eyes before he finally spoke. “I know you can. But you don’t have to.”
The words settled deep in my chest, unexpected and disarming.
He gave my fingers a small squeeze before letting go, shifting to stand. “Go take a minute. I’ll handle this.”
I hesitated, remembering the stares from the customers. The last thing I wanted was to make a scene.
“Adam—”
“Sadie.” His voice was firm but not unkind. “Go.”
His expression left no room for argument.
So I moved.
“Oh my god!” A woman, clearly mortified, approached me, her eyes locked on mine. “I am so sorry! Biscuit, is a menace.”
Biscuit promptly ignored her, still wagging his tail like he’d won the lottery.
I stared at her, momentarily struck dumb. She was gorgeous. Like, movie-star-level beautiful.
“Are you okay?” she asked, flustered, trying to herd Biscuit toward her. “God, I am so embarrassed. He’s usually so good! I mean, not good, but like… less chaotic?”
I blinked. “Uh… yeah. I’m fine. Just wet. I’m going to… you know, dry off…”
Biscuit barked happily, as if proud of his handiwork.
“Is there anything I can do?”
I shook my head, backing away. I appreciated what she was saying, but I really did just need some space.
“I’m Lila,” she called after me. “Get my number if you do need anything…”
I pushed through the kitchen doors, my breath coming faster now that I wasn’t in the center of the restaurant.
The cooler air helped, but the pressure in my chest hadn’t fully lifted.
I flattened my palms against the counter, closing my eyes and willing the memories to stay buried.
The sound of the door swinging open made me tense.
“Here.” Adam’s voice again. A bottle of water appeared in my peripheral vision.
I swallowed hard before taking it, twisting the cap open just to give my hands something to do. “I’m fine.”
Adam leaned against the counter beside me, arms crossed. “You sure about that?”
I took a sip, focusing on the coolness of the water, on the way it slid down my throat. “It was just a moment. It happens sometimes.”
He didn’t say anything right away.
When I finally glanced at him, his usual teasing smirk was nowhere to be found. Instead, there was a seriousness I hadn’t expected to see.
“You don’t have to tell me,” he said. “But if you ever want to, I’ll listen.”
I let out a breath, the tightness in my chest loosening just a little.
“It was a car accident,” I admitted, my voice quieter than before. “A long time ago.”
Adam didn’t press for more. He just nodded, his gaze never leaving mine. “I see.”
I hesitated, my fingers tightening around the water bottle.
Talking about it still wasn’t easy, even after all these years.
But Adam just stood there, patient, waiting, not pushing.
That steady presence made my walls crack, just a little.
“I was fourteen,” I finally said. “It was late. We were coming home from a family friend’s house. A drunk driver ran a red light.” I exhaled sharply. “Everything flipped so fast. One second, we were talking about school, and the next... I was waking up in the hospital.”
Adam stayed quiet, but I could feel the weight of his attention.
“My parents didn’t make it,” I whispered. “I did, somehow, but…” I swallowed, pushing past the lump in my throat. “It should have been all of us. Or none.”
Adam’s jaw tensed, and for a second, I thought he might say something, but he just let me talk.
That made it easier to keep going.
“I didn’t have anyone else. No grandparents, no aunts or uncles. So I went into the system.” I gave a hollow laugh. “I was lucky, I guess. I wasn’t in Willow Creek Orphanage for too long. Hayley fostered me, which is when I first came to Medford.”
The mention of her name eased the tightness in my chest even more.
I traced the ridges of the water bottle cap with my thumb.
“She was the best thing that ever happened to me. I was angry back then, at everything. At the world. At myself. She didn’t care.
She was patient. Kind. She let me feel what I needed to feel without making me feel broken for it.
I mean, this town is so different from Phoenix, where I grew up, but she managed to make it home. ”
Adam nodded slowly. “She sounds like a good woman.”
“She is,” I said firmly. “She didn’t have to take me in, but she did. And she never made me feel like I was some burden she had to deal with. She wanted me there.” I smiled faintly. “She used to say family wasn’t just about blood, it was about who showed up, who stayed.”
“That’s true,” Adam murmured. He looked down, like he was turning everything over in his mind before he met my gaze again. “You were lucky, yeah. But so was she.”
The words caught me off guard. “What?”
Adam shrugged. “You think she didn’t feel the same way? That maybe you were exactly what she needed, too?”
I opened my mouth, then closed it, surprised. I’d never thought about it like that. Hayley had been my safe place, my anchor. But had I been something for her too?
“I don’t know,” I admitted.
Adam studied me for a long second, then nodded toward the door. “Come on.”
I frowned. “What?”
“You need a minute. Let’s take a walk.”
I hesitated. “What about the restaurant?”
“Kai and Samuel can handle it.”
I let out a small laugh. “You sure about that?”
Adam smirked. “Not even a little. But it’ll be fine.”
I stared at him, searching his face, but all I found was certainty. A steadiness I hadn’t expected. And maybe that was what made me say, “Okay.”
Because for the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel like I had to hold it all on my own.