Chapter 54
SADIE
Days turn into weeks, and now my house is filled with boxes, stacked from floor to ceiling.
I sit on the hardwood of my living room, a Sharpie uncapped in my hand, labeling another one—KITCHEN—before sliding it into place. I sold the house faster than I expected, thanks to the updates Grant helped me with, and now everything I own is reduced to cardboard and tape.
I quit the things that didn’t feel right—the ones I said yes to out of habit, not desire. Playing piano at church. Volunteering at the animal shelter where every dog looked at me like I was a chew toy. Organizing baby showers because someone needed help.
None of them were bad things. They just weren’t good for me.
And somewhere along the way, I realized that when I was giving my yes to everyone and everything, I wasn’t leaving space for anyone else to step in—to be part of the community they loved.
The truth is I love Dusty Hollow. I’d just allowed resentment to harden into bitterness until my responsibilities started to feel like regrets.
I’m also beginning to choose things without asking if they are necessary or needed—things that I just want to do. I enrolled in a few online classes for the fall—psychology, literature, and writing. Not because they lead anywhere. Just because they feel like doors I want to open.
And I planned a trip. I am going to see some of the world for myself.
I stand, tugging at my shorts, before I pick up the library books I found that are way past due. Milo’s Bible is resting beside them. I place my palm on it gently, smiling.
I haven’t seen him in weeks, but somehow the thought of him still feels close.
The distance between us feels different this time.
Like it’s a pause more than a goodbye. Joe said he’s settled back in Jersey, and I’m grateful knowing he’s surrounded by good people who loved him well when he needed them most.
I grab my phone and earbuds, slipping them into my pocket, and step out into the August heat.
“Sadie!” Patty shouts from across the road, waving her hand wildly.
I cross to meet her on the sidewalk in front of her house.
“We’re so sad to see you leave our neighborhood. You’ve just been a sheer delight. What are your plans next?” The look on her face is more bless your heart than genuine curiosity.
I cross my arms over my books, pushing my hip out to the side as I give Patty a half smile. “Did you book that cruise?”
She purses her lips and furrows her brows. “I did.”
“Taking anyone special with you? I’ve noticed Mr. Wilson’s truck has been parked out front of your house the last few weeks.” I give her a wink.
“Sadie Summers! That’s none of your business!” She huffs, putting a hand over her heart.
My smile grows. “Have a great day, Patty. Enjoy that cruise.”
I continue my walk, the books light in my arms.
I grab the earbuds out of my pocket, gently placing them in my ears before I choose an energetic beat on my phone—“Dance” by Rascal Flatts.
My pulse is soon matching the tempo, and I find myself shuffling and spinning along the sidewalk, pretending my books are my dance partner.
My feet move effortlessly. My shoulders bounce, making the blue butterfly flutter.
I wave at everyone who watches me curiously and I wonder if they’re asking Is that girl okay?
Because I want to shout that I’m more than okay. I’m me. Sadie Summers. The girl who has a heart for others, including fictional characters, who gives all of herself when she chooses something, and who loves fiercely.
I open the library door, and Ginny’s eyebrows arch high when I enter dancing to the end of a song. When it’s over, I slip my earbuds out and put them back in my pocket, placing the books on the counter.
“Hi, Ginny,” I say with a grin.
“Sadie. So the rumors are true.” She pulls her pink glasses down her nose as if she’s giving me a full assessment.
I shrug. “Maybe. Sorry these are late. I got a little busy.”
She glances down at the books I checked out months before. “Late books? That’s new, too.”
“New things aren’t so bad.”
“I’m getting some good-girl-gone-bad vibes,” Ginny teases as she begins to scan the books.
I laugh. “Not exactly. More like good girl flies free.”
Ginny blinks as if she’s seeing me for the first time as myself—not as the person Dusty Hollow had defined me as. And I truly hope she breaks free, too.
“It’s good to see you, Ginny. I hope you’ll be at the birthday bash tomorrow.”
She swallows. “I—”
“You’re always invited, and you should really come. We’ve replaced clowns and bouncy houses with karaoke and a coffee bar.”
“What time?” she asks.
“Five,” I answer.
Then I step back into the heat of Dusty Hollow, music moving back through my body, and dance my way to the house that’s no longer home.