Less than two minutes later, Skylar reappeared from her room, a convenience store bag in hand.
Joe raised an eyebrow, unsure of what she was up to this time.
“There are a few bags of tea in here. They’re good for insomnia,” Skylar explained, her voice calm. “I mixed them based on an old recipe. I didn’t make much, so just go ahead and have these first.”
Skylar handed him the bag, her hands steady. She had spent many hours reading at Viola’s house and had learned how to make remedies from age-old recipes. It wasn’t the first time she had crafted something to help, like when she’d made a foot soak for Gloria.
Joe took the bag from her, his fingers brushing against hers for a brief moment. A gentle herbal scent wafted from the bag. “Is this tea?” he asked, trying to make sense of the situation. Was she giving him tea… now?
“It’s different from your usual tea,” she said, her gaze steady as she looked at him. “This one is meant to help with sleep. I don’t think you’ll find anything like it elsewhere. Anyway, it’s late. I’m going to bed now. Good night, Mr. Martin.”
Before he could respond, Skylar turned and retreated to her room, leaving him standing there, the bag of tea in his hands.
Joe stood still for a moment, his mind running in circles. She hadn’t asked for his help. Was she too proud, or perhaps embarrassed to make a request? He couldn’t figure it out. Instead, she had chosen to give him this, a kind of peace offering.
With a sigh, Joe entered his own room, bag in hand. Thirty minutes later, he returned downstairs, holding one of the tea bags in his hand. The warm, subtle scent of the tea filled the room as he prepared it. It didn’t smell overpowering, unlike the usual herbal remedies that made you grimace.
Would this be effective? Joe questioned softly to himself as he took a sip. He thought about Skylar’s massage techniques. Maybe this would help him with his insomnia, just as her techniques had.
He finished the tea slowly, taking comfort in the warmth. When he finally returned to his room and lay down in bed, he noticed something surprising: he felt less irritable. Was it psychological? Or had the tea actually worked?
Meanwhile, Skylar woke up at 6:00 am the next morning, her phone buzzing with notifications. The situation had drastically shifted overnight. The Williams family’s PR team had worked overtime, pushing a narrative that now encouraged Skylar to apologize publicly. The pressure was mounting.
As she was about to edit her videos for social media, Caleb’s voice message popped up on her phone.
“Skylar! Have you seen Facebook? The Williams PR team is on the attack! Can’t believe Maisy’s part of that family! They’re making a huge fuss about it. Don’t worry, I’ll help you think of something. These people are shameless, denying everything and trying to slander you!”
After listening to Caleb’s rant, Skylar smiled faintly and replied that she wasn’t afraid. Then, she got to work, editing the videos and writing the post she needed to make.
Back at Caleb’s place, he was swearing under his breath as he hit ‘send’ on his message. But before he could calm down, a few sharp smacks landed on the back of his head.
“Ow!” Caleb shouted, turning around to see his grandfather, Alexander, standing behind him with a stern expression.
“Watch your mouth,” Alexander chided, his face serious. “Your parents aren’t around to discipline you, so it’s my job now.”
Caleb winced. “Grandpa, I’m your only grandson! You’ll regret hitting me—I’ll be dumber from the pain! I wasn’t swearing on purpose, though. I was just mad on Skylar’s behalf. They’re treating her terribly!”
Alexander raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “Skylar? Is she the one you mentioned two days ago? The one who knows antiques?”
Caleb, realizing his grandfather hadn’t taken him seriously before, nodded vigorously. “Yeah, that’s her. She’s smart, Grandpa, you’ll see.”
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