bChapter /bb172 /b

Edith’s brows drew together in a faint frown as she shot a sharp look at the group ill–mannered students. “I’m not doing this out of kindness for you, and frankly, you don’t deserve it. I just don’t want to hold up the entire charity project. If you don’t respect your work, don’t expect your work to respect you in return.”

With that, she turned and made her way toward the east wall of Riverbend Zoo.

It took a moment for the brainpower–challenged Northcrest University students to realize they’d just been thoroughly scolded by Edith.

of

Someone muttered under their breath, “Jeez, acting like she owns the ce. If she keeps this up, her inws are going to kick her out. She’s the one disrespecting them, not the other way around.”

“Yeah, some people just think they can boss you around because they’re older.”

Charlotte couldn’t take it anymore. “Are you all here to work or not? If you’re not, then go back to campus and stop wasting everyone’s time!”

Clearly, these students were just looking for an easy target; Edith seemed like a pushover, but they wouldn’t dare cross Charlotte. She had a reputation for being fierce–more lioness than student.

Byte morning, the summer sun beat down as fiercely as a stepmother with a grudge.

Edith had dressed for the heat in a gray t–shirt and dark jeans, now standing before a graffiti–covered wall. She reached into her jeans pocket, pulled out a ck hair tie, and quickly swept her hair off her shoulders, securing it in a high ponytail with practiced hands.

Charlotte watched from a few yards away. At this moment, her upperssman looked nothing like a woman who’d just stepped out of a luxury car. Instead, she could’ve been mistaken for a high school grad about to start her first semester at college. Especially now, with her hair up, phone tucked in her pocket, and her head bent as she mixed paint, Charlotte was transported right back to her own days at art

camp.

So fresh–faced. Too young, almost.

She nced at the group of juniors who’d just mocked Edith. The irony wasn’t lost on her–they were several years younger than Edith, but somehow looked even older. And yet these airheads still wanted topete with Edith on looks.

18:17

Maybe their homes didn’t have mirrors. Then again, everyone has a bathroom, right? They could at least take a good look at themselves there.

Charlotte rolled her eyes at the students and made a mental note to talk to Professor Lockwood about how each year’s ss seemed to be getting worse. She used to think she’d hit rock bottom by not bing a mainstream artist after graduation, but apparently, there were lower lows.

The midday sun was relentless.

Edith worked steadily, colors flowing from her brush as she tried to capture the intery of light and shadow. Sometimes she’d close her eyes, lost in thought, or pause to scratch her head, searching for the right shade.

She didn’t even notice the sweat rolling down her forehead like heavy rain, stinging her eyes with salt. The pain made her eyes water until she couldn’t tell if it was sweat or tears streaming down her cheeks.

Not finding any tissues, she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand–clean enough, at leastpared to her paint–sttered fingers–and forced her eyes open again.

Charlotte had ordered delivery and a big case of iced drinks arrived. She called out, “Edith! Take a break and have some water!”

Edith turned away from the wall, squinting into the blinding sunlight and shading her eyes with her hand. “I’m good! I’ll drink when I’m finished.”

She liked the feeling of pushing through and finishing a task in one go. Back at the Vance house, she’d always been juggling Heather and Salome, and whenever Beckett came ihome/i, she had to take care of extra chores. It had been ages since she’d had the chance ito /iplete a project from start to finish.