But Hunter's right, in his own blunt way. Better to rip the band-aid off, to let her see exactly what she'd be signing up for. If she can't handle Hunter at his most intense, if she's going to run at the first sign of difficulty, better to find out now rather than after the kids have gotten attached.
"Alright," I agree reluctantly. "I'll text Dylan, let him know the change of plans."
Hunter nods, satisfied, then stands and stretches. "I'm going to go make sure the kids haven't made a complete disaster of the kitchen."
As he walks away, I exchange a look with Silas. There's concern in his dark eyes, worry about what we're potentially getting ourselves into. "You think this is a good idea?" Silas asks quietly.
Honestly? I have no idea. But we're out of options, out of time, and out of energy to keep doing this alone. So whether it's a good idea or not almost doesn't matter.
"I think it's the only idea we've got," I say.
Silas nods slowly, before leaning his head on my shoulder and wrapping an arm around my waist. "Then I guess we're doing this."
I pull out my phone and shoot Dylan a message.
Change of plans. Hunter wants to meet at our place instead. Let her see the kids and the house. Tomorrow at noon work?
The reply comes back almost immediately.
I'll talk to her. See you then.
I set my phone down and look toward the kitchen, where I can hear Hunter's deep voice mixed with the kids' higher-pitched chatter. Riley's laughing at something, and Isaac's asking for more noodles, both of his grubby hands holding up saucy carbs.
If Dylan's sister can help us hold onto that, help us be better for Riley and Isaac, then I'll deal with however intimidating tomorrow's meeting turns out to be. Hopefully, she's exactly what we need.
And hopefully, we don't scare her off before we even get the chance to find out.
Amelia
I'm freaking out a little bit. Actually, scratch that. I'm freaking out a lot. Dylan mentioned a new opportunity over breakfast this morning, casual as anything, like he wasn't turning my entire day upside down. "I stumbled into a few friends at the diner and they could use a bit of help nannying their kids, picking up the house, that kind of thing. If you’re up for it, I thought we’d go over there at lunch to see how you feel."
Just like that. Simple.Easy.
Except nothing about this feels simple or easy, and my brain has been spinning in circles ever since, cycling through every worst-case scenario it can conjure up.
I've been working through the morning at the elementary school on autopilot, my body going through the familiar motions while my mind is somewhere else entirely. The kids are doing end-of-year activities, mostly crafts and games, since there's no point in starting new lessons this close to summer break. I help Maya glue popsicle sticks together. I untangle the yarn that Thomas has somehow managed to knot into an impossible mess. I hand out stickers and gold stars and words of encouragement, all while feeling raw and terrified beneath my careful smile.
The classroom clock ticks closer to eleven-thirty, each minute feeling both too fast and too slow. When the bell finally rings for lunch, I practically jump out of my skin.
"Miss Sterling?" One of the other teachers pokes her head into my classroom. "You heading to the break room?"
"Actually, I have an appointment," I manage to say, my voice only wavering slightly. "I'll be back for the afternoon session."
The walk to the parking lot feels like I'm walking through water, each step requiring more effort than it should. The sun is bright overhead, warm on my face, but I can't seem to stop shivering. I wrap my arms around myself, trying to hold together the pieces that feel like they're threatening to fly apart.
Dylan's truck is easy to spot, and both he and Maddox are leaning against it, waiting for me. Dylan straightens when he sees me approach, his expression shifting from relaxed to concerned in the space of a heartbeat.
"Hey sis," he says gently, my brother already seeing right through whatever mask I'm trying to wear. "You ready to go meet the kids?"
“Wait, what?" I knew we’d be going to the house, and some part of mealso knewthat I’d be meeting their kids, but I hadn’t really figured all that out yet.
"Yes, Amelia," Dylan muses, tugging me toward him. "I mentioned it this morning at breakfast that we’d go to their house so you could see what you’d be working with. We’ll be right there and their kids are adorable."
My chest tightens, panic clawing its way up my throat. It’s not exactly a change because Dylan did say ‘over there’ but somewhere in my head, I must have thought a coffee shop or Dylan’s house. Vincent used to do it constantly, changing plans at the last second just to keep me off-balance, to keep me confused and dependent on him.
He'd tell me we were meeting at a restaurant and then drive somewhere completely different. He'd say we were going to the movies and end up at his friend's house, where I didn't know anyone. Always changing things, always keeping me guessing, always maintaining control.
"I don't..." I start, but my voice cracks. "That's not... um."
