CHAPTER 8
KATRINA SAT ON THE side of her bed, thankful the service was over. She didn’t have time for cramps. Not this close to Christmas. Not with a pageant to plan, a pageant she hadn’t even known about until Mrs. Porter marched in and put her in charge. What was Greg thinking? She was a second violinist, not a director. Not a leader. Who with half a brain would pick a girl who’s too afraid to speak in public and can’t even sing to direct a musical? Besides, she didn’t know anything about kids. She had grown up an only child and had spent more time with her violin teachers than with children her own age. Every minute of her childhood that wasn’t tied up with homework was spent practicing. Rehearsing. Performing. It was the only life she had known.
Until Greg.
She had always assumed sh
