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“This,” I confide, “is one of the strangest experiences of my adult life.”

Ashby looks deeply unbothered. “Good strange or concerning strange?”

“I haven’t decided.”

Lucy unbuckles quickly before leaning between the seats again. “Can he come tomorrow too, Aunt Laurel?” The edge of hope in her voice is cautious enough that it nearly hurts to hear.

I fold softly inwardly and glance toward Ashby.

His attention stays politely forward on the windshield, as if he isn’t listening.

Damn.

“We’ll see,” I tell her.

“Okay.” Lucy nods solemnly before climbing out with Bun tucked under her arm.

Ashby watches until she safely disappears inside the doors with the other kids. Only then does he pull away.

“I owe you,” I say.

Ashby’s hands tighten slightly on the wheel before relaxing again. “No, you don’t.”

“That’s not how favors work.”

“This isn’t a favor.”

I look at him properly then.

It proves to be a dangerous decision.

His profile catches pale morning light through the windshield, chiseled jawline softened slightly by exhaustion. He looks steadier than the rest of us all the time, but lately I’ve started noticing the cracks underneath that calm too.

The late nights. The constant thinking. The way he watches me when he thinks I’m overwhelmed. It must be tiring.

I look away before he notices how hard his words have hit me.

Naturally, I have to ruin the moment. “You definitely organize your bookshelf by emotional genre too.”

His mouth twitches. “Only nonfiction.”

I laugh, and it feels good.

At noon, the rain stops. The house is quiet but for the friendly hum of the fridge.

I sit at the dining table staring at my laptop, multiple spreadsheets glowing back at me.

Normally work helps.

Work has structure. Predictability. Problems with measurable outcomes and organized solutions.

I used to love that.

Maybe I still do.

But today, it all feels strangely unimportant compared to the rest of my life.

My sister is missing. My niece expects people not to come back. I’m sleeping with three men who all look at me like I’m worth protecting.