Chapter 16

The drive to Portland took a solid fifty-five minutes.

After passing the Welcome to Portland, City of Two Rivers sign, Diana cruised past empty lots, swerved around piles of trash in the streets, and stared at the boarded-up homes and abandoned warehouses. The conditions were far worse than the roughest part of Denver where she’d taught. She had read about this neighborhood—the one where Equal Opportunity was located. Crime rates here were 213% higher than the national average, and violent crime was up 95%.

The lot in front of Equal Opportunity was little more than a crumbling slab of concrete. Weeds pushed knee-high through cracks near the sidewalk. Shouldn’t someone be cutting those? A single bulb flickered weakly above the door, illuminating only half the nonprofit’s sign. A chill slid down Diana’s spine.

Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe Steve was right.

Still, mistake or not, she would go in—if only to prove Steve McAllister wrong. One more man didn’t get to call the shots in her life.

Five other vehicles, including Steve’s unmistakable truck, filled the lot. Diana inhaled deeply, stepped out of her car, and checked the door handle twice to make sure it was locked before heading inside.

The tightness in her chest loosened as soon as she stepped through the front doors. The interior had been painted in bright, cheerful colors. The first few rooms held tables and desks, one had five old computers, and another was stocked with basic science equipment.

Inside, the building felt like a safe haven.

She followed the sound of voices to the back dining room, where everyone was gathered around a table, eating pasta. Conversation ceased the moment she stepped into view.

Steve’s mouth dropped open, his fork frozen midair.

“What are you doing here?” He looked like a bull about to paw the floor.

“I’m here to help, of course,” Diana said, cool and composed.

Steve stood, crossed the room, and stopped in front of her.

“I thought we talked about this.” His tone was urgent and low.

Principal Livingston cleared his throat and gestured to the group. “All right, everyone—let’s get started. Dean and Brian, you’ve got floors. Gene and Nancy, bathrooms and supply list. I’ll be in the office or basement with Aaron. Sonny...” He pointed at a teen boy in bright orange high-tops. “You’re on dish duty. But first, I’d like to introduce Diana Snow. She’s the new teacher I mentioned at our last board meeting, and I believe she’s going to be a fantastic asset to our team.”

He offered Diana a warm, encouraging smile.

Everyone moved off to their assigned tasks—except Steve and Sonny.

The teenager let out a long, low whistle. “You’re hot. I wouldn’t mind—”

“Be respectful, Sonny,” Steve snapped, his voice sharp.

Sonny straightened his posture, mildly chastened. “Apologies. I meant, you’re a very pretty woman, Miss Snow.”

Diana laughed. “Thanks ... I think. And you can just call me Diana.”

Steve stood still, jaw tight, like he had something to say but was biting it back.

Sonny waved her over toward the large industrial sink. Diana followed.

“Between you and me,” she said with a grin, “you’ve still got a lot to learn about women.”

His cocky smirk faded into something almost sheepish. “Maybe I could take a few lessons from you.”

“Keep dreaming.” She chuckled. “So, do you volunteer here?”

“Kind of. More like they can’t get rid of me even if they try.” He shrugged with an easy grin.

By the end of the night, the group reconvened in the kitchen. Gene—an older man who looked like he could’ve once led a biker gang—cleared his throat.

“Thanks for all your hard work tonight. The place is looking good for next week’s opening. Unless anyone has something else to say, let’s call it a night. See you all next week.”