an extremely sharp little brunette who had grown up in Bluespark.
“Very good, Ratha,” I said. “Now let’s switch over to subtraction. What’s nine minus four?”
My stomach rumbled on the way to the staff break room at midday. Thistlepine Elementary had an amazing chef who prepared lunch for the students and teachers during the day and ran the town’s most popular restaurant at night.
When I saw the thick slices of cheese and vegetable quiche waiting on the table, I clapped my hands together. “Oh, sweetberries!”
Miss Maylin Dorhana, the teacher of the fourth- and fifth-years, handed me a plate. She was Ratha’s mother, and several years younger than I was. She wore her light brown hair in a low, messy bun, and a long necklace strung from dried rowan berries dangled from her neck.
Bluespark had a large population of elderly and young elves, but not a lot of middle-aged ones. Maylin had told me that a lot of elves had left seeking opportunities in larger towns like Pinemist. Bluespark had only recently begun to grow again with young families seeking smaller communities.
Maylin pointed behind the quiche. “Did you see the fudge cake?”
“Did you just say fudge cake?” I demanded. I hurried around the table to confirm there was cake. What I saw made my eyes roll into the back of my head.
Maylin and I dished up as two more teachers arrived. We all ate lunch together in one tight-knit group that included Principal Hazelroot. A wonderful group of volunteer parents supervised the children’s lunch and recess, giving the staff an opportunity to enjoy a much-needed break.
I carried my heavy plate—laden with crusty quiche, dandelion greens, and cake—to the table and sighed happily. “I don’t know whether to try the quiche or cake first.”
Maylin stuffed a forkful of quiche inside her mouth, chewed, and swallowed. “Quiche,” she answered. “It’s the perfect temperature.”
She didn’t have to tell me twice.
Later, at the end of arts and crafts, my dad was waiting for me in front of the school. He had his hands in his pockets as he stood beneath the shade of a tree. As soon as he saw me, a grin lit up his face. He pulled his hands out of his pockets and started toward me.
“Let me take that for you,” he said, sliding the satchel of books and papers off my shoulder.
I brushed my hair over one shoulder. “So, what’s the latest on the battlefront?”
“The ogres are still holed up in their caves and progress continues on the trench,” Dad answered, leaving it at that. He knew it was a sore subject with me.
Reed had learned the hard way that it was too dangerous to try pursuing ogres once they retreated into their caves. He’d nearly been crushed to death by a boulder. The twins had insisted it was fine, as he hadn’t been hurt, but since the boulder incident, I could barely speak to my mom. Avoiding her wasn’t difficult during the week, since she was never around. She came to Bluespark every weekend to help escort refugees and speak with the town’s mayor.
The twins came every weekend to stay with me.
Young mothers held the hands of their children as they walked the stone path, smiling at me as they passed. Kuskyn ran in front of his mother, a short brunette snuggling a sleeping baby against her chest.
“See you tomorrow, Miss Omarel!” Some kids seemed to be under the impression that adults were hard of hearing. They felt the urge to yell every sentence.
“See you tomorrow, Kuskyn.”
My student’s mother glanced down and smiled with relief when she saw her son’s bellow hadn’t woken the baby. She hurried past me and my dad.
“I still can’t believe you gave up your job at Meadowbrook,” Dad said with a slight shake of his head.
“Leave of absence,” I reminded him. “Principal Lemonwick said he’d be happy to hire me back.”
“As long as there’s a position available,” Dad said dubiously.
“I’m the one who won’t be available.” I placed a hand on my belly.
“So that’s it? You’re giving up your teaching career?”
“Arg. Dad! You know I’ve always wanted to be a mother. One who, you know, sticks around home and actually takes care of her kids.”
Dad winced. He hugged my satchel against his hip. “Your mother loves you unconditionally. She’s always done the best she knows how. After being orphaned at age six, her life became one of survival.”
“I know, Dad, but that’s not the life I want.”
“Our biggest wish is for you to live a happy