ust as | was about to open the door, however, a firm hand shot out and shoved it shut once again. | stopped in
my tracks, my hand still lingering on the doorknob, as | looked up to see Noah's tall form towering over me.
“Why are you leaving?” he whispered, leaning closer. “What about the car?”
| simply shrugged and placed one hand on my hip. “I figured you could call the driver to cand pick you up
whenever you're ready,” | said, glancing around the comer to see Zoe still bustling around the kitchen with a
satisfied smile on her face. “Although, you seem cozy enough here. Maybe you should stay. here for a few days”
Noah visibly bristled at my words, his ears turning a new shade of red.
“Why would | stay here?” he growled.
| didn’t bother to answer; | simply tilted my chin down at him and shot him a scathing look through my eyebrows
before roughly yanking the door open, causing him to lose his grip and stumble backwards. | then held my hand
out flat and waited.
Noah clenched his jaw for a moment, his eyes darting back and forth across my face, before he finally sighed.
Fishing his car keys out of his pocket, he plopped them in my hand and stalked off.
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Without so much as glancing back, | strode down the path to the car and drove away.
Pulling the car over to the side of the road, | put it in park close to the small sign and peered through the
windshield.
“Bake Sale,” the sign read. “Children’s Center Fundraiser.”
My stomach was growling again, and the idea of a muffin sounded appetizing-and besides, | didn’t feel like going
home. Out of spite, | felt like taking Noah's precious car on a bit of a joyride. Maybe | would take it to the next
town over for sshopping later, too.
As | walked inside the small community center, | was immediately hit with the sweet scent of confections and the
sound of soft music. Tables were scattered around containing various baked goods, and | slipped my sunglasses
up onto my head as | browsed.
“Luna Hannah? Is that you?” a soft voice suddenly asked. | lifted my head to see a middle-aged woman in an
apron walking up to me, a group of young children watching from afar.
“Hello,” I said with a smile. “How can | help you?”
The woman beamed atand wrung her hands a bit as she nodded her head toward the kids. “I'm Maggie, one
of the instructors at the pre-school. The kids recognized you and wantedto ask if you'd like to join us for our
dreamcatcher-making session.
Quirking an eyebrow, | peered past the woman at the group of kids; they were all quite small, wearing matching
little aprons and watching with wonder on their tiny faces.
Instantly, | felt whatever anger | had been feeling before ebb away. | offered the woman a grin and nodded. “I'd
love to join. Thank you for inviting me.”
| followed the woman to the kids, who shyly greetedwith bashful looks on their faces. Crouching
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down to each of them, | greeted them all by name, taking my tto comment on their hair or their face paint or
their aprons.
Over the next half hour, | joined in on the dreamcatcher session; | sat on the floor with the kids, helping them to
properly wrap the string and attach the beads and feathers.
It was moments like this-being with the children, surrounded by their innocence and the sounds of their tinkling
laughter-that | felt most at ease. In fact, | had all but forgotten about Noah and Zoe by the tour
dreamcatchers were finished, and | even agreed to stay for another arts and crafts session as well.
“Thank you, Luna Hannah!” one of the little boys said, holding his dreamcatcher up triumphantly. “Now | can tell
everyone that | got to play with a Luna!”
| laughed and pinched his cheek. “And now | get to tell everyone that | got to play with you kids,” | said.
Suddenly, however, a familiar male voice cut through the din of tiny children’s laughter.
“Fancy seeing you here.”
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