The Sinner

“I don’t remember singing that night.” He chuckled. “Good thing too. No one wants to hear that.” He cleared his throat and shuffled through a small mountain of papers on his desk, missing my incredulous stare. “Sorry, Luce, I have a million things to do before my trip. Was there anything else you needed?”

“Not a thing.”

“Good luck on your presentation,” he called as I backed away. “Can’t wait to hear it.”

I exited his office to see clusters of my coworkers bent over phones or gathered around laptops, snickering and murmuring. They stopped when they saw me, identical guilty expressions on their faces.

I stormed up to where Dale was huddled with Hannah from fundraising, my hand out. “Give it to me.”

“Oh, uh, Luce, it’s nothing,” Dale said, exchanging glances with Hannah.

“You don’t need to see it.” Jana strode up, shooting daggers at the others. “Come on, Luce. Let’s talk about your presentation. I have good news—”

My outstretched hand didn’t waver. “Show me.”

Dale looked sheepishly at Jana, then handed over his phone. Abby had posted a video to TikTok—a montage of me over the last few months gawking at Guy in the office, staring like a puppy dog when he walked by, gazing up at him while he spoke in a meeting. A documentary of my pathetic crush, set to a song called “Notice Me.”

My skin felt hot and too tight.

“Luce.” Jana’s voice sounded far away. “Forget it. The presentation…”

The presentation. Right. I had to stand up in front of all these people and talk about shoes.

No way.

I rushed to my desk to gather my things. Permanently. I’d get another job. Somewhere no one knew me. I’d sit in the corner and mind my own business and not talk to anyone. Because this last week had made it abundantly clear what happens when you put yourself out there. Humiliation and pain. My “demons” were right all along. Silly Lucy had ventured out of her silly little life and had been slapped for it. Hard.

In minutes, I’d thrown all my belongings into my bag—there wasn’t much. Jana hadn’t followed me. She was probably in the conference room waiting for me along with everyone else. She could run the shoe project without me.

I shouldered my bag to go when my eye caught the single red rose Casziel had given me in its water bottle. It was brown and wilted, having dropped all its petals. But for one. One petal remained, and it was as red and vibrant as it had been a week ago.

There’s still time.

Time for what? I’d lost everything. I thought I’d touched on something real with Cas, some deep truth about us—about me—and it’d all been a lie. His redemption and our big plan to make Guy fall for me? More lies. Every deepest wish of my heart had been exposed and burned to ash.

Tears flooded my eyes, and I sank into my chair, staring at the rose.

Hey pumpkin. Dad’s voice was as clear in my mind as if he were sitting right next to me. I even thought I caught a whiff of pipe smoke. Don’t give up. It’s not too late.

“Yes, it is, Daddy,” I whispered, the rose blurring in my vision. “I can’t…”

Yes, you can. You’ve never given up, not in thousands of years. You’re strong. Fierce. You’ve just forgotten for a little while.

The truth of it seeped into the broken cracks of me. I’d done more and seen more and felt more in one week than I had in my entire life.

I danced with the devil in the pale moonlight.

I stood straighter, shoulders squared. My personal life might’ve been reduced to a barren wasteland, but I was still standing. There was no one beside me, holding my hand. No all-consuming love, but I still had me. In that moment, it wasn’t much, but I still had work to do. The oceans weren’t going to magically rid themselves of the nearly ten million metric tons of plastic dumped into them every year.

I tossed my bag on the chair and grabbed my briefcase. The jumble of nerves in my stomach didn’t vanish—they tightened until I was nauseated at the idea of standing in front of the group, my humiliation still fresh in their minds.

But I felt Dad’s proud smile as I made my way to the conference room, clutching that briefcase handle in my sweaty hands. His voice in my mind—and heart—was so much louder than the demons that clamored I was making a huge mistake.

Thatta girl, pumpkin. I knew you could do it.

The water hit my face, and I held my cupped hands to my cheeks, the bracing coldness the best thing I’d ever felt. I looked up from the bathroom sink, and the woman staring back at me in the mirror wore a smile. They’d loved it. Kimberly had insisted on being patched in from Cancún and began giving orders to put my plan in motion. Jana, who’d been blinking back proud tears, announced that Kai Solomon had agreed to sponsor the shoe when it was ready. Guy was impressed, but I could tell he was already halfway out the door without me.

But maybe that’s how it was supposed to be. No Guy or Casziel. There were worse tragedies than not having a man, including the one in Sri Lanka.