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CHAPTER 7
Emmett
I’M STROLLING DOWN the gravel driveway toward the barn, minding my business, when I see her.
Julia Silva.
Every morning, I have to walk past this building that she’s prepping, and every morning she greets me with a happy hello. I wish there were another route to the barn, but there isn’t. I’ve considered driving, but parking is already tight enough with staff. And to be frank, driving a distance that takes me five minutes to walk is just lazy and bad for the environment.
So this is my new normal. Fucking everywhere I look. I swear the woman works twenty-four hours a day. Some sort of overachieving keener.
Just like her brother.
Irritating.
Nearly as irritating as watching her struggle with bags of dirt the size of her body with no one to help her.
She grins as I approach, the plastic seam of the bag dragging across her chin as she turns to look my way. “Good morning!”
My brow furrows. She sounds chipper. Just as chipper as Oma when she talks about how lovely Julia is.