Chapter 29 Elara
ELARA
The tow company had been apologetic but firm. "Parts won't be in until end of week. Maybe longer with the roads like this."
Elara thanked them and hung up. So she was stuck. No car. No escape route. Just Hollow Oak and whatever came next.
She couldn't sit in her room. Couldn't stare at her notebook and pretend she had words that made sense. So she grabbed her coat and headed into town.
The morning was clear, sun glinting off fresh snow. People moved through the streets, shoveling paths, hanging wreaths.
Elara found herself outside the Griddle and Grind. Through the window, she could see Twyla directing two younger women as they strung garlands across the ceiling.
The bell chimed when she entered.
Twyla looked up, her wheat-colored hair pulled back with a ribbon. "Well. Didn't expect to see you today."
"Didn't expect to be here."
"Car trouble?" Twyla's knowing smile suggested she already knew the answer.
"Among other things."
"Sit. I'll get you coffee."
"Actually," Elara said, "I was wondering if you needed help."
Twyla paused mid-step. "Help with what?"
"Whatever you're doing. Looks like you're preparing for something."
"Winter Feast. Tomorrow night." Twyla gestured to the chaos of decorations and supplies. "Town tradition. Everyone gathers in the square, shares food, pretends the world isn't trying to freeze us solid."
"Sounds nice."
"It is." Twyla studied her. "You sure you want to help? Thought you'd be packing by now."
"Can't leave without a car."
"That's not what I asked."
Elara pulled off her coat. "Just tell me what to do."
Twyla's smile widened. "All right then. Start with those boxes. Candle holders need cleaning."
For the next three hours, Elara worked. She cleaned candle holders, folded napkins, helped arrange tables that would go outside tomorrow. Twyla directed with easy authority, pausing occasionally to gossip with customers or correct someone's garland placement.
Around noon, Freya stopped by with baskets of herbs. "For the mulled wine," she explained, setting them on the counter. She saw Elara and raised an eyebrow. "You're still here."
"Apparently."
"Good." Freya handed Twyla a bundle of cinnamon sticks. "We need all the hands we can get."
A man Elara recognized from the bookstore brought in crates of apples. A woman with silver hair carried in fresh bread. One by one, people filtered through, dropping off supplies, checking preparations, sharing news.
And every single one of them stopped when they saw Elara. Some nodded. Some offered small smiles. A few looked wary.
But none of them asked her to leave.
"See that?" Twyla said quietly, appearing at her elbow. "That's community."
Elara didn't answer. She focused on unpacking candles, lining them up on the counter.
By mid-afternoon, the café had transformed. Garlands draped from every surface. Candles waited to be lit. Tables stood ready to be carried outside. The whole space smelled like cinnamon and pine.
"Take a break," Twyla said, pressing a mug of hot cider into her hands. "You've earned it."
Elara settled into a chair by the window. Outside, the square was filling with activity. Children ran between buildings, throwing snowballs. Adults set up structures for tomorrow's feast. Someone was testing string lights, the bulbs flickering on and off.
"This is what he's protecting," Elara said quietly.
Twyla sat down across from her. "What who's protecting?"
"Alaric. This." She gestured toward the window. "All of it."
"Yes."
"I put it at risk."
"You didn't mean to."
"Does that matter?"
Twyla sipped her own cider. "You can't change what brought you here. You can change what you do now that you know."
"And what should I do?"
"That's not for me to say." Twyla set down her mug. "But I will tell you this. Alaric's been walking around like a ghost for five years. Doing his job. Following orders. Never letting himself want anything. Then you showed up and I watched that man come alive again."
"He wants me gone."
Twyla leaned forward. "Don't mistake his fear for rejection. He's terrified of losing you the way he lost everyone else."
"He told you about his family?"
"Didn't have to. Loss like that leaves marks." Twyla's expression softened. "Give him a chance to fix this. Give yourself a chance to hear him out."
Elara looked into her cider. "What if I can't forgive him for lying?"
"Then you can't. But you should at least let him try to explain why."
The door opened. Diana entered, brushing snow from her coat. "Thought I'd find you here."
"Putting me to work," Elara said.
"Good. Keeps you from overthinking." Diana moved to the counter. "Twyla, I need three dozen cookies for tomorrow."
"Already done. Back room."
As Diana disappeared to collect them, more people filtered in. The café filled with voices, laughter, the clink of mugs. Elara watched them move around each other with practiced ease. A community that knew itself. Trusted itself.
Protected itself.
And she'd almost destroyed it without knowing.
"Stop," Twyla said.
Elara looked up. "What?"
"Stop beating yourself up. I can see it on your face." Twyla stood. "You made a mistake. You're still here trying to fix it. That counts for something."
By the time the sun started setting, Elara's back ached. But the café was ready. The town was ready. Tomorrow they'd gather in the square and celebrate winter together.
And she'd probably be watching from her window at the inn, packed and waiting for her car to be fixed.
"Thank you for helping," Twyla said as Elara pulled on her coat. "Meant a lot."
"I didn't do much."
"You showed up. That's more than most outsiders would do after what happened." Twyla handed her a small bag. "Cookies. For the walk back."
Elara took them. "Thanks."
"Elara?" Twyla's voice stopped her at the door. "Whatever you decide, make sure it's what you want. Not what you think everyone else needs."
Elara nodded and stepped outside.
The cold hit immediately, but the town looked beautiful in the fading light. Lanterns glowed. Snow sparkled. The square had been transformed, ready for tomorrow's celebration.
She started walking toward the inn, boots crunching through fresh snow. Her mind spun with everything she'd seen today. The way people had worked together. The way they'd accepted her help without question. The way Twyla had looked at her like she could belong here if she chose to.
If she chose to.
"Elara."
She stopped and turned.
Alaric stood twenty feet behind her, hands in his pockets. He looked tired. Uncertain in a way she'd never seen him before.
"Can we talk?" he asked.