“Are you okay?” Sarah asked, her voice dropping.

“You look pale.”

“I’m fine,” I said.

“Just tired.”

“Did he come?” she whispered.

I nodded.

“He knows,” I said.

Sarah’s smile faded.

“What are you going to do?”

“He’s meeting us tomorrow,” I said.

“Just for an hour.”

She squeezed my shoulder.

“Call me if you need me to stand in the corner with a broom,” she said.

I managed a real laugh this time.

“I will.”

After Sarah left, I made mac and cheese for the boys.

They sat at the small table, chattering about the museum.

I watched them, my heart aching with a mixture of love and fear.

I had built this quiet, simple life for them.

It was safe.

Now, the door to the Harrington world had been cracked open.

Once they got in, they never left.

By nine o’clock, the boys were asleep in their bunk beds.

I stood in their doorway, watching the rise and fall of their shoulders.

My phone vibrated in my pocket.

I pulled it out, expecting a text from Blake about tomorrow.

It was an unknown number.