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"I know enough."

The kid spends too much time around Laurel.

As if proving the point, I catch sight of Laurel across the room. She's standing with Maggie near one of the wrapping stations, laughing about something while they help a couple of teenagers sort gifts by age group.

Laurel rests a hand against her stomach while she talks, completely distracted by the conversation.

She's been doing that a lot lately, drifting off with that distant look in her eyes. Half the time, I don't think she even realizes she's doing it.

We're having a baby.

I still can't wrap my head around it. The thought fills me with excitement and terror in equal measure, and somehow that makes it feel even more right.

Maggie has changed, too. Her smiles come easier. The strain that used to sit behind her eyes has started to loosen its grip. She laughs without forcing it, jumps into conversations instead of hanging back, and meets people's gazes instead of searching for the nearest exit.

We've got a long way to go, but she's finally facing the future instead of trying to outrun it.

A flash of movement cuts across my vision.

Lucy barrels through the community center with a roll of wrapping paper tucked under one arm. The thing is nearly as tall as she is and twice as potentially dangerous.

I sidestep directly into her path before she can wipe out three folding chairs and take down one of the volunteers with them. "Where are you headed?"

She glances around suspiciously. "Mission."

"What mission?"

She leans closer and drops her voice. "Classified."

"Of course it is."

"You'll be informed if your clearance level changes."

I snort. "Think I can live with that."

She pats my arm sympathetically. "I know it's disappointing."

By late afternoon, we're running out of places to stack donations.

Every collection bin is overflowing, volunteers are squeezing extra tables into corners, and Marlowe has spent the last twenty minutes trying to convince people that piling toys directly in front of the fire exit isn't a great idea.

People are having fun.

Kids dart between wrapping stations. Parents chat over cups of hot chocolate. Music drifts from a speaker near the stage while volunteers sort gifts into neat rows that immediately become less neat the minute children wander too close.

I finally relax enough to grab a coffee.

The normal buzz of the toy drive lasts all of ten seconds before movement near the entrance pulls my attention away from Lucy and her mountain of stuffed animals.

Tom.

My stomach twists so hard I nearly miss Maggie spotting him too.

One glance is all it takes. Her smile vanishes, her shoulders pulling tight as she reaches for Lucy and draws her closer. Lucy looks up, confused, still clutching a stuffed giraffe while Maggie shifts her behind her side without taking her eyes off the man standing in the doorway.

I set my coffee on the nearest table and start across the room.

Torin's already moving from the opposite direction. Ashby beats both of us, cutting through the crowd with the kind of purpose that makes people step aside without being asked.