“That’s what we were whispering about,” Becca says. “We don’t know who sent them to her. Now come in and close the door.”

I take a deep breath and approach my desk as if there’s a detonated bomb on it. “They’re just flowers, right?”

“Maybe they’re from Principal Fuckwad and there’s a beehive inside.”

I freeze mid-step and toss a glare over my shoulder. “Kerr, don’t even joke about that.”

“You never know. With the shit he’s pulled, I’d be careful.”

I stretch my arm as far as my body will allow and snatch the card off the bouquet. The girls huddle around me as I pull it out of the envelope.

“Dear Raegan,” I read aloud. “Truce? xo Jax.”

My jaw drops. I read the card again. And again.

Kerry’s the first one to speak. “Is he for real? Why do men always think a bouquet of flowers is going to undo everything they’ve done wrong?”

I don’t respond. I can’t. I’m reading the card again.

Mary swipes the flowers off my desk and inspects them, peeking in between the stem of each red rose. “These don’t look like a trap. They’re just flowers.”

Finally, my voice returns. “There’s no such thing as just flowers. People send flowers for a reason.”

“Maybe he realized that everything got way out of hand,” Sammi says, ever the optimist. “Maybe he’s sorry.”

“I don’t trust it.” Andrea glances at her watch. “You have ten minutes before the bell rings. Go find out what this is about.”

Clutching the card in my hand, my heart pounds with every step I take down the hallway. When I enter the main office, Jaxon’s door is closed.

“Someone has a secret admirer,” Beth says with a smile.

“Did you see who delivered the flowers?”

“Nope. They were here with a post-it that said Room 1 so I brought them down to your room.”

“Thanks. I need to talk to Principal Waters. Is he in yet?”

“He is. Just give a knock.”

I walk past her desk and knock on Jaxon’s door before letting myself in.

Jaxon smiles when he sees me. “Good Morning, Raegan.”

I arch an eyebrow and hold up the card. “What the hell does this mean?”

“Oh, good. You got the flowers. I wasn’t sure which ones were your favorite, so I figured I’d go with a classic rose.”

“Why?”

He folds his hands on the desk. “I want to call a truce. I did a lot of thinking this weekend, and this whole thing between us has spiraled way out of control. You’re an employee and I shouldn’t be treating you this way.”

“Why now? What changed?”

He hikes a shoulder. “If you say you didn’t steal the ring, then you didn’t steal the ring. I don’t have any reason to believe you did.”