The air outside the town hall felt colder than usual that afternoon, but Holly didn’t mind. She stood at one of the vendor stalls, discussing booth arrangements with a local baker while trying to ignore the light ache in her arms from helping Jack with his snow sculpture earlier. Jack had insisted on teasing her the entire morning, but if she were honest, the teasing had made her smile far more than it annoyed her. It had been... fun.
A word she hadn’t associated with herself in a long time.
“Thanks for your help, Holly,” the baker said, packing up her paperwork. “You’re really turning this festival around.”
“No problem,” Holly said, tucking her notebook under her arm. “Happy to help.”
She turned to leave, but the sound of a familiar voice froze her mid-step.
“Well, well, if it isn’t
