Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 85585 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85585 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Traditional.
Right.
Because the parent who stayed is the unstable one.
Got it.
“I’ve been here every day,” I say, forcing my tone to remain calm. It isn’t easy, but I do it anyway. Everything hinges on me holding it together.
“I know,” Mark replies. “But they’re documenting everything. Missed pickups. Late drop-offs. Nanny inconsistencies. They’re trying to build a narrative.”
I stare out the windshield as snowflakes stick to the glass before melting into streaks.
“My sitter was late twice,” I grind out.
“And they’re using it.”
Of course they are.
“They’re also requesting a reconsideration of the in-home evaluation.”
My jaw flexes as images flash in my head of Elody’s drawings taped on the fridge, the growth chart behind her door, the cabinet locks, and the stack of bedtime books we’ve read so many times I could recite them from memory.
Even though I did everything I could to pick up the pieces after Sarah walked out, and build a loving home for my little girl, her parents are determined to take that away from me.
“Elody is happy and safe,” I say, more to myself than him. “She’s not missing anything.” Least of all a mother who decided we weren’t enough for her.
“And we’ll argue that,” Mark says. “But don’t give them anything they can twist.”
Translation: no more slipups.
“Understood.”
“I know it’s a lot,” he adds. “But you’re doing a good job, and the judge sees that.”
I hope to hell he’s right. Elody’s the one thing I can’t lose.
“Thanks,” I manage.
“We’ll talk when I have more information.”
“Sure. I appreciate the update.”
The call ends and I catch my reflection in the rearview mirror. There are dark circles under my eyes and lines of tension carved into my face. Pretty sure I’ve aged at least ten years in the past twelve months.
Five minutes later we pull into the preschool lot as snow drifts down in lazy flakes.
Elody points at the sky. “Look, Daddy! Snow!”
Her wonderment is exactly the balm I need after that phone call. “Yup. First snow of the season. Maybe it’s good luck.”
“It is!” she declares.
When I unbuckle her and lift her out, she loops her arms around my neck and peppers my cheek with quick kisses.
How don’t her grandparents see how happy and well-adjusted she is?
Inside, Ms. Harding greets us with a bright smile.
“Good morning, Elody!” she chirps before her gaze shifts to me. “Morning, Laiken.”
I give a polite nod. “Morning.”
She touches my forearm. “Carrie told me what happened at pickup the other day.”
“Yeah. Sorry about that. Katie’s usually very reliable.”
“Oh, it’s fine.” Her smile doesn’t falter as she steps closer. “I just want you to know that if you ever need help, I’d be happy to step in.”
This isn’t the first occasion she’s offered her assistance, and I shut it down every time. The last thing I need is rumors about me and Elody’s teacher circulating. The McIntyres would twist it in half a second.
“I appreciate it,” I say carefully, wanting to be friendly without inviting anything more. “If something comes up, I’ll be sure to let you know.”
“Perfect!” She squeezes Elody’s shoulder. “She’s such a sweet girl.”
Elody tugs my sleeve. “Daddy?”
I blink down at her, grateful for the distraction. “Yeah, bug?”
“When can Kia come over and play?” she asks. “She needs to braid Penny’s hair.”
The question knocks me sideways. I blink, momentarily caught off guard. “I… I’m not sure,” I say, trying to buy myself a second. “Kia’s probably busy.”
“Maybe tomorrow?” she presses, completely undeterred.
Mark’s warning immediately surfaces.
Don’t give them anything they can twist.
I hate that I have to weigh an innocent request against potential consequences, but that’s my new reality.
“No, I don’t think so,” I say, keeping my tone light. “How about we talk about it later, okay?”
Elody’s mouth pinches, disappointment flickering across her face, before she nods. Ms. Harding steps closer, resting a hand lightly on Elody’s back and guiding her toward the other students.
Elody turns around one last time. “Love you, Daddy!” she calls, waving as she goes.
“Love you more,” I say, watching her disappear into the classroom.
As soon as the door closes, the hallway quiets. I lean against the wall for one beat, then push off and head back toward the Escalade.
It’s not even nine o’clock and the day already feels too damn long.
3
Kia
By the time I finish my makeup, I can’t tell if the queasiness in my stomach is from nerves or the pregnancy. I brace my hands on the bathroom counter and stare at my reflection. The girl looking back at me is a paler version of myself with blue eyes that are a little too big and cheeks that are a little too hollow. But Rina was right about the sweater dress. It’s cozy, flattering, and loose enough to keep my secret where it belongs.
Hidden.
I smooth my palm over the knit and the faint curve beneath it.
My phone sits face down on the counter. I stare at it for a moment, then force myself to flip it over before I can chicken out. Relief washes through me when I see there aren’t any new messages from Collin.