Page 79 of The Beekeeper

“Is the queen okay?”

I went still, wishing—praying she would’ve asked me anything but that. Wishing I could’ve even answered with an honest ‘I don’t know.’ But I did know. I knew because I saw the dead queen just before Paisley had called my name.

“I’ll check on her and let you know, how does that sound?” I scrambled for anything to get her focus off of something that was sure to upset her. A dead queen was sad. A dead queen for a little girl who’d just lost her mother not that long ago…it was a bad reminder. A really bad reminder.

“Where’s the queen?” she insisted, shaking out of my hold. “I want to see the queen!”

I looked to Blaze who instantly realized the truth I was trying hard not to say.

“Paisley—” Blaze reached for her, but she slipped out of his hold and ran to the other side of me.

“Where is she? Is she okay?” She scoured the trays I’d pulled out.

“Paisley, please—” I tried to block her path again, but she pivoted to the other side.

“I don’t see her. Where is she?” Her voice was pitched high and panicked now, afraid and on the brink of tears.

“Paisley, enough,” Blaze ordered, his voice hard as he moved right next to me so one of us could reach her whichever way she went. “We’re going inside.”

“No,” she sobbed, the sound like a knife to my chest. “I need to find her. I need to find the queen⁠—”

“Paisley—”

I put my hand on Blaze’s chest, stopping him. This was my fault.

“She’s here,” I said softly and pointed to the tray she’d been avoiding because it was the closest to me.

Like she knew what she was going to find, Paisley stopped running and just stared at me. Tears fell from her eyes without her even blinking.

“I’m sorry, Paisley. She didn’t make it,” I said, my heart breaking into a thousand pieces to see her face crumble.

“She’s…dead?”

“I’m sorry.”

She shook her head so violently, I knew it had to hurt.

“No, she can’t die. She can’t die. The hive needs her. The bees need her,” she wailed and then took two wobbling steps over, threw her arms around my neck, and cried.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Frankie pull Blaze back, just far enough away so his own frustration at his helplessness wasn’t looming.

“I’m sorry, Paisley,” I murmured, hugging her tight and gently brushing her hair down with my hand. “I’m so sorry.”

“W-what happens now?” She choked. “Do the bees have to move? Do they have to go live in another hive? Will another queen take care of them?”

With every question, I heard the echo of grief. Of a little girl who’d had to move when her mom died. Who’d had to live every place Blaze had gone. And as much as it crushed me, my breath snagged on the tiniest spark of hope.

“No,” I said softly, brushing her hair back from where it had matted on her face. “They don’t have to move. They get to stay in their hive.”

“How? They don’t have a queen.” She hiccuped, tears sluicing down her splotched cheeks.

“Because they’ll make a new queen.”

She sucked in a trembling breath. “They will?”

“Here, let me show you.” I took her hand and drew her over to the bottom tray, pointing at the already enlarged honeycomb cells. I couldn’t take away her sadness, but I could give her hope. “See there, the worker bees already started making bigger rooms for these baby bees. They’ll feed the little girl special food that allows her to grow into a new queen, and in a few days, she’ll hatch and take over the hive.”

“So…any bee can become a queen?”