Chapter 3
Monday morning arrived with a dusting of new snow and a wave of nervous energy that had Sara up before dawn.
She changed outfits three times before settling on a calf-length burgundy skirt, a cream sweater with smiling cat faces, and comfortable ankle boots.
She pinned her hair back with a pair of sparkly combs, painted on some raspberry lip gloss, and took a deep breath.
Fairhaven Falls Elementary was a charming two-story brick building that radiated a welcoming warmth, even in the grey morning light.
Inside, the hallways were bright and cheerful, decorated with colorful artwork and pictures of students and their families, most of whom were clearly not human.
Her classroom was on the ground floor, a large, bright space with a wall of windows looking out onto a snow-covered playground bordered by ancient oak trees.
The walls were covered in cheerful artwork and educational posters, and someone had painted a mural of woodland creatures along one wall.
It felt like a place where magic was normal. Where children could be themselves without fear.
After a quick word with the school secretary, she spent the next hour arranging desks, decorating the bulletin boards, and setting up a reading corner.
She was just arranging a pile of picture books on the reading rug when a tiny goblin girl with bright green skin and two braided top-knots bounced into the room.
“Hi! You’re the new teacher!” The girl’s voice was surprisingly loud for her size. “I’m Petunia. This is my second year of kindergarten ‘cause my mama says I’m a late bloomer.” She puffed out her chest proudly. “What’s your name?”
“I’m Miss Cartwright,” she said, smiling and kneeling down to be at eye level. “It’s very nice to meet you, Petunia.”
“Are you a human?” Petunia asked, her big yellow eyes wide with curiosity. “My mama says humans are squishy but mostly harmless.”
She laughed. “That’s right. I’m a human. And I promise I’m mostly harmless.”
Before Petunia could respond, a werewolf cub in blue overalls poked his head into the room. “Petunia, your Mama said you had to wait in the office.”
“But she was here!” Petunia pointed a green finger at Sara. “And I wanted to see if she brought snacks.”
The cub looked Sara up and down, his nose twitching. “She doesn’t smell like snacks.”
“She does too! She smells like sugar!” Petunia insisted.
Why does everyone think I smell like sugar?
“Petunia. Peter.” A goblin female with kind eyes and a frazzled expression hurried into the room. “How many times have I told you not to bother the teacher? Class hasn’t started yet.”
“I don’t mind,” she said, smiling at the other woman. “I’m sure they’re curious about me. They’re welcome to stay with me until class starts.”
“Are you sure? I have an early shift at the hospital today but they can wait in the office.”
“I’m sure. I know you don’t want to be late to work.”
The woman hesitated a moment longer, then flashed her a quick smile. “I appreciate it. I’m Marjorie Gold.”
“I’m Sara Cartwright. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“You too. Behave yourself, children,” Marjorie ordered, then hurried away. Sara turned back to find two sets of eyes fastened on her face.
“Our last teacher was a selkie,” Peter announced. “She could turn into a seal. Can you turn into anything?”
“I’m afraid not.” She smiled as his face fell. “I hope you won’t hold it against me. Now what can you tell me about the class pet?”
By the time the other twelve students in her class had arrived, she had learned that the class pet was a hedgehog named Sir Pricklepants, and that her predecessor, the seal-shifting selkie, had left rather abruptly after falling in love with a fisherman from the coast.
“She sends postcards sometimes,” a tiny elf girl named Maisie informed her. “They smell like fish.”
“That’s… interesting,” she managed.
“But they don’t taste like fish. Billy tried eating one.”
Billy was a young troll, twice the size of the other students, with a shy smile and a gentle touch. He blushed a deep blue and hid behind a drawing of a castle.
The day was a whirlwind of name games, art projects, and story time. She discovered that goblin children were fiercely competitive about snack time, that werewolf cubs were incredibly affectionate, and that trolls made excellent, if oversized, building partners.
By the end of the day, she was exhausted but exhilarated. The school was exactly what she had been hoping for. A classroom full of bright, curious children who saw her as their teacher, not just as a human.
“You really do smell like sugar,” Petunia announced as she got ready to leave, tugging on her skirt.
“So I’ve been told,” she replied, gathering the last of the art supplies. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
“It’s a good thing,” Peter said seriously. “My dad says things that smell good usually taste good. Are you tasty?”
“Peter!” Marjorie Gold had returned to pick up the children, and she gave Sara an apologetic look. “He hasn’t learned the difference between inside thoughts and outside thoughts yet.”
“It’s all right,” she said, her lips twitching. “But for the record, I’m not on the menu.”
Marjorie laughed. “He knows that, don’t you, Peter?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Peter’s ears drooped. “But she still smells good.”
“You’ll have to bring some of your famous brownies to the next PTA meeting,” Marjorie suggested. “I heard about them from Flora. Apparently, you’re a legend.”
“I just enjoy baking,” she said bashfully, resigning herself to the fact that the whole town seemed to be interested in her brownies.
She was tidying up her classroom after saying her goodbyes to the rest of the children and their parents when a tall, slender woman with silver hair piled in an elegant twist and skin the pale blue of a winter sky appeared in her doorway.
Despite her somewhat icy appearance, she gave Sara a warm smile.
“Good afternoon, Sara.”
“Good afternoon, Principal Frostdale.”
“Oh, please. Call me Tricia. I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to swing by this morning to welcome you, but I wanted to see how your first day went.”
“Wonderfully,” she said happily. “The children are delightful, and the classroom is beautiful.”
“Your predecessor Ms. Waverly had very specific ideas about creating an inclusive space.” Tricia’s eyes crinkled. “She believed that children learn best when they feel safe to be themselves. We’ve tried to maintain that philosophy.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
Tricia nodded, then gave her a thoughtful look.
“As you know, we were very grateful that you applied for this position, especially given the short notice. Your references are excellent, and your experience with diverse classrooms made you an ideal candidate.” She paused.
“But I noticed you left your previous position rather suddenly.”
Her stomach tightened. She’d known this conversation would happen eventually—she was actually surprised that it hadn’t taken place during her interviews.
“I did,” she said quietly. “There was… a situation.”
“Would you like to tell me about it?”
She looked out the window at the snow-covered playground gathering her courage. Even though she’d rehearsed her explanation in her mind, she still hated talking about it.
“The father of one of my students began making inappropriate advances. At first it was relatively small things like comments about my appearance, but then he started finding excuses to stay after pickup and showing up at school events where I was alone.” She swallowed.
“I reported it to the administration. They spoke to him, but nothing changed. If anything, it got worse.”
“I see.” Tricia’s voice was carefully neutral.
“I made it clear that I wasn’t interested, but it only made him more persistent.” Her fists clenched before she forced them to relax. “I documented everything and was preparing to file a police report. But then his wife found out.”
“And she blamed you?”
“Of course. She told everyone I’d been pursuing her husband, and that I was a homewrecker who preyed on married men.
” The words still stung. “My principal did his best to defend me, but she just wouldn’t let it go.
It wasn’t good for the school and it wasn’t good for the children, so I decided it would be better for everyone if I left. ’”
Silence stretched between them before Tricia sighed.
“I’m really sorry that happened to you, but I can promise you that something like that would never happen here.”
“How can you be sure?” The question popped out before she had a chance to consider it.
“First of all, most Others mate for life and they would never pursue another female. And second, if an unmated male tried something like that, I’d send Flora after him.”
While Tricia was undoubtedly joking, Sara suspected that Flora would be a formidable ally despite her diminutive size.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said solemnly. “Thank you for believing in me.”
After Tricia left, Sara gathered her things slowly, savoring the quiet of the empty classroom. Sir Pricklepants rustled in his cage, and she stopped to refresh his water and give him a gentle scratch behind the ears.
“I think this is really going to work out this time,” she told him, and he snuffled in what she chose to interpret as agreement.