Maeve’s POV.
I was hauling the last box of meat into the Harrison’s garage when I heard the faint crunch of snow behind me. I ignored it at first, focused on the winter chill biting through my hoodie and the sweat from carrying the heavy boxes. It was six days to Christmas, and the Harrisons had insisted I come by early before the holiday rush.
“You’re sure you’re okay coming here?” Mrs. Harrison asked, wrapping a wool scarf around my neck as I set the last box down.
“I’m fine,” I said, brushing past her. “Just finishing up my deliveries.”
She smiled, eyes soft but aware. “You don’t have to work so hard, you know. I invited you for Christmas. You could’ve joined us. We won’t even mention you’re a rogue.”
I shook my head. “I appreciate it, really, but I work better alone. You’ll under
