He clearly didn't believe me. His gaze was dark and heavy as he watched.
A moment later, he snatched the slip of paper from my hand. "Harmony Academy?"
His brow furrowed. "Mildred, I know the headmaster well. I'll put in a word—have them assign that kind of work to someone else."
"You're already doing janitorial work, and that's already—"
His voice faltered. The rims of his eyes had gone red. "Mildred, if things have been this hard for you, why didn't you come to me?"
I blinked.
Janitorial work?
I glanced down instinctively and caught my reflection in the polished surface of a piano. The shirt I'd thrown on today was a little faded.
It did look a bit like a cleaning uniform, now that I noticed.
Of course.
In Wyatt Simmons's eyes, I'd always been someone barely scraping by.
But I had no interest in explaining myself. I offered a faint smile. "I'm buying the piano myself. There's no need to bother the headmaster."
Then I walked to the counter and paid.
Tonight was the night my daughter had won first place in the National Youth Piano Competition.
I needed to get home and celebrate with her.
Autumn had arrived early in Riverton that year, sharp and sudden.