Page 147 of If By Chance

“How short?” I ask, immediately regretting it when she slices her hand to just below my shoulders.

It’s not short.

Not to other people, at least.

But to me, she may as well shave it.

Jesus, get a grip on yourself.

I nod, hoping my voice sounds stronger than I feel when I say, “Okay, just do it.”

I squeeze my eyes shut and focus on the hushed chatter around me.

“Wait,” Hannah’s little voice speaks up. “I want to do it with you.”

Tears of sheer pride wet my cheeks. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to.” She hops up on the chair next to mine, looks at me to say,‘we’ve got this’, and we both take a deep breath. “But I can’t reach your hand from over here.”

“I’ve got you, baby girl.” Beth is wiping her face as she holds Hannah’s hand.

“And I’ve got this baby girl.” Jake’s firm grip takes my hand and squeezes. I don’t need the sound of his voice to know it’s him because I think I’d know his touch anywhere. It’s the only time my skin tingles, and I can’t help but torture myself when I wonder if he feels it too.

Why does he have to do things like this?

But I take his comfort because I need it.

“Ah, I see now.” Nora pipes up from the corner with the most annoying grin. “Rescued from your tower, were you?”

I glare at her.

She’s putting two and two together and getting five.

“Nora, haven’t you got other people to torture or the souls of young people to drink?”

Jake almost chokes.

“HA!” she cackles like the witch she is. Sometimes, I don’t know why I love her so much. “I only drink the souls on Sundays, dear. You should know that.”

I roll my eyes and blow out a long breath, choosing to ignore the amusement she’s getting from my panic.

I press my eyes shut so hard it hurts, but I don’t want to see this.

“I’m going to be sick,” I mutter to myself, swallowing back the lump in my throat.

“You’re going to break my hand,” Jake says, laughing his ass off. I open my right eye and shoot him a warning glance, but it doesn’t have the desired effect because his shoulders roll with more laughter. I squeeze him tighter. “Squeeze all you like,” he teases.

“Shut up, Jake.”

“Okay.” His agreement shocks me enough to open my eyes.

“Why aren’t you arguing with me?”

“Because you’re freaking out enough.” He motions his thumb in circles over my knuckles. “You’ve got this.”

Then it happens.

I hear the snip of the scissors, and my eyes go wide.