Forbidden - Karla Sorensen Page 0,17

a care in the world.

It took a concerted effort to close my gaping mouth, but I set down the cleaning supplies and looked around the gym. Not a parent in sight. It was completely normal for a few kids to tag along with their parents if they came to class, but this was not normal.

Nor was it safe.

The last thing we needed was someone’s kid falling from an iron beam and breaking her leg. I approached carefully, channeling all my big sister vibes. Her eyes were wide and clear and bright blue, and they tracked every step that I took.

I set my hands on my hips and glanced up at the beam. “Impressive,” I told her.

She didn’t answer, but her lips quirked in a smile.

“What’s your name?”

“You’re a stranger, so I shouldn’t tell you.”

I nodded slowly. “That’s very smart.”

“What’s your name?”

“Isabel. Where’d you learn how to climb like that?”

She shrugged. “Dunno. I’ve always known how.”

“And you’re not afraid of heights?”

Her hair swooshed when she shook her head.

“Do you think you could hop down to me?” Again, the hair swooshing and the head shaking. Okay then. “It would get pretty uncomfortable sitting up there all day.”

Her legs swung. Yeah, she was in no freaking hurry. How nice for her.

“I don’t know if I could climb up onto the beam,” I said, “but I do have one other trick I could do.”

Interest sparked behind those eyes. “What is it?”

I clucked my tongue. “Can’t tell you unless you hop down, kiddo.”

Her lips screwed sideways as she pondered that.

“Who’d you come here with?”

“My daddy’s in the bathroom. I heard him on the phone and got bored waiting.”

“Okay, well … maybe if you hop down now, I can show you my trick, and he won’t even see you up there.”

“He’s already mad at me because I pretended I had to puke so I didn’t have to go to day camp, but that place is dumb, and I don’t want to go, but my grandparents were busy and couldn’t watch me.”

I blew out a slow breath, imagining all the ways this could go sideways. “Can’t blame you, kid. I’d probably fake sick too.”

Her smile was bigger this time, and I caught a glimpse of an adorable gap where her front teeth would eventually grow in. My nephew Emmett lost his when he was almost eight, so I took that little nugget and ran with it.

“Especially because you’re, what, nine?”

She giggled. “Nope. I’m only seven, but I’m almost eight.”

“Yeah? When’s your birthday?”

“In ten months.”

I smothered my smile. “So close.”

“How old are you?” She shifted on the beam, and I fought the impulse to stick my hands out in case she fell, but apparently, only one of us was nervous about her perch, and it was not her.

“Twenty-five,” I whispered. “Super old.”

She giggled again. “You’re only old once you turn fifty.”

“Ahh. Very good to know.”

Her eyes darted to the side and then back to me. “Do you like to sing?”

My head tilted at the change of subject. “I’m not a very good singer, so no… I can’t say that I do.”

The line of her eyebrows lowered.

“Okay, I’ll come down, but only if you show me your trick first.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Bargaining, huh?”

“My aunt told me I should always stand up for what I want, so that’s what I’m doing.”

Well, her fricken aunt wasn’t here trying to get her down from the fricken metal beam, now was she? I kept my smile even, though. “Okay, but you’ve got to promise you’ll come down, right?” I held up two fingers. “Girl Scouts honor?”

She nodded vehemently.

“Okay.” I pointed at the beam. “Turn your one leg so you’re straddling it like you’re sitting on a horse, okay? Then hold on with both hands.”

I breathed a bit easier when she obeyed immediately.

“What’re you gonna do?” she asked.

“I’m going to hang on the bag,” I whispered. “With no hands.”

Her eyes widened. “No way.”

“Way.”

With a quick glance back by the bathroom, there was still no sign of her dad, so I shook my head and jumped, grabbing the chain along the top of the bag and pulling my body weight as high as I could go. Hoisted up like that, I tugged my legs up, wrapping them around the upper middle of the heavy bag, and crossed my feet at the ankles.

With a glance in her direction, I let go of the chains and let my upper body slowly fall back.

“Whoa,” she whispered.

My braid was swinging toward the ground when I lifted my upper

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