She poured coffee into her favorite mug and wrapped both hands around it, seeking warmth that had nothing to do with temperature. Her mind kept replaying last night, the way Maddy’s face had looked when she’d seen that message. The confusion and hope and uncertainty all mixed together.
Thanks to Christopher’s support, Isabella had managed to field Maddy’s questions without completely falling apart. She’d made the decision to be honest, or at least as honest as she could be without terrifying her twelve-year-old daughter.
Maddy’s eyes had lit up when Isabella first explained that her father had contacted her. For one brief, shining moment, Maddy had thought Todd had reached out because he wanted to know his daughter. Because he’d finally realized what he’d been missing all these years.
Isabella had been about to lie, to let Maddy believe that comfortable fiction, when she’d caught Christopher’s eyes across the living room. He hadn’t said anything, hadn’t needed to. That steady gaze had pulled her back to reality. This wasn’t a game, and Todd had just proved he’d play as dirty as necessary to get what he wanted by somehow getting hold of Maddy’s contact information.
So Isabella had told Maddy the truth. Well, part of it. That her father was looking for a loan, but they had nothing to give him. That he was in financial trouble and thought Isabella might help him.
“Is that why he wants to meet me?” Maddy had asked, her voice small but her eyes sharp with understandingthat sometimes made Isabella forget she was only twelve. “He thinks he can manipulate you through me?”
Sometimes, Isabella forgot just how incredibly smart her high-potential daughter was. Maddy had inherited Isabella’s emotional intelligence along with a razor-sharp analytical mind that saw through pretense with uncomfortable accuracy.
Maddy had understood the situation, but she still wanted to meet Todd. Even if it was just once. Even knowing he had ulterior motives. She wanted to look her father in the eye and know him, even if what she found wasn’t what she’d hoped for all these years.
Isabella had made Maddy promise to only meet her father if Isabella was with her. No private meetings. No going anywhere alone with a man who was essentially a stranger, blood relation or not.
Now, standing in her kitchen as dawn painted the sky pink and gold, Isabella couldn’t shake the feeling that Todd’s real agenda had been to scare her. To show her that he could reach Maddy whenever he wanted. That Isabella’s carefully built walls of protection meant nothing if Todd decided to go around her directly to their daughter.
The message had been clear: give me what I want, or I’ll use your daughter against you.
“You’re up early.”
Isabella turned to find Christopher in the kitchen doorway, his hair slightly mussed from sleep, wearing the same jeans andHenley shirt from last night. He looked tired but alert, and the concern in his eyes made her throat tight.
“I couldn’t sleep,” Isabella admitted. “Coffee?”
“Please.”
She poured him a mug and handed it over, their fingers brushing in a contact that sent familiar warmth through her despite everything. Christopher took a sip and studied her over the rim of the mug.
“You did good last night,” he said quietly. “With Maddy. Being honest with her was the right call.”
“I almost lied,” Isabella confessed. “I almost told her that Todd wanted to see her because he missed her. Because he’d realized what he gave up.”
“But you didn’t,” Christopher said, setting his mug down and taking a step closer. “You told her the truth, and she handled it. Because you’ve raised a strong, smart kid who can deal with hard truths.”
Isabella felt tears prick at her eyes, but blinked them away. She didn’t have time to fall apart. They had work to do, and Maddy would be up soon for school.
An hour later, they were in Isabella’s now-fixed car heading toward the inn. Christopher had picked up her vehicle from the mechanic yesterday evening, and whatever had been wrong with it had been repaired. Whether Todd had actually sabotaged it or if it had been a convenient coincidence, Isabella didn’t know. She wasn’t sure which optionscared her more.
Maddy sat in the back seat, unusually quiet as she stared out the window at the passing scenery. She’d given Isabella her phone that morning without being asked, understanding that any further contact from Todd needed to go through her mother first.
The gesture made Isabella want to cry and cheer at the same time. Her daughter was growing up, learning to navigate complicated adult situations with grace that belied her age.
As soon as they pulled into the inn’s parking lot, Maddy unbuckled her seatbelt. “Can I go find Trinity?”
“Of course,” Isabella said, watching her daughter practically sprint toward the inn’s entrance.
Christopher reached over and squeezed Isabella’s hand. “We’ll keep an eye on her. She’s going to be fine.”
“I know,” Isabella said, but her voice wavered. “She’s a good kid. She understands what’s happening. I hate that she has to understand it at all.”
They climbed out of the car and walked into the inn together. The morning was already bustling with activity. Julie stood at the front desk sorting through what looked like more RSVPs for the Winter Ball. Jack’s voice drifted from somewhere deeper in the building, probably the workshop. The smell of fresh coffee and cinnamon rolls wafted from the kitchen where Mrs. Hurling was preparing breakfast for guests.
It felt normal and safe and like a haven from everything threatening to crash down around Isabella’s carefully built life.
Christopher had promised to keep an eye on Maddy while they worked on the ballroom, and Isabella found comfort in that. Trinity and Maddy were inseparable these days, and between Christopher, Gabe, and Jane, all working in the ballroom, there were plenty of responsible adults watching over them.
