“Supervised,” I said.

Blake looked up, his eyes wide.

“What?” he asked.

“You can see them,” I said.

“But only with me there.”

“Every single minute.”

He nodded quickly, his chest rising and falling.

“Yes,” he said.

“Of course.”

“Whatever you want.”

“We will meet at the diner down the street,” I said.

“For one hour.”

“No expensive gifts.”

“No talk about your houses, or your money, or your planes.”

“You are just Blake.”

“A friend of mine.”

He swallowed hard and nodded again.

“A friend,” he repeated.

“For now,” I said.

“Until they are old enough to understand.”

“Thank you, Emma,” he said.

He reached for my hand, but I stepped back.

“Do not thank me,” I said.

“I am doing this for them, not for you.”

His phone buzzed again on the counter.

The vibration made a sharp, scraping sound against the wood.

Blake didn’t look at it this time.

“She won’t stop,” I said, gesturing to the phone.

“Helena will find out.”

“She already knows I’m in Chicago,” Blake said.

“But she doesn’t know about the boys.”

“I haven’t told her.”