“Promise?”
It’s the second time he’s asked me that word.Promise.My chest squeezes. Trust must not come easy for him. I hold out my pinky. “Pinky promise, bud.”
He hooks his small finger around mine, lips tugging into the faintest smile. My heart warms like I’ve won the bloody lottery. We sit in the quiet for a while after that, until the boards creak behind us and a familiar voice rolls over my shoulder. “Making pinky promises without me, are we?”
I turn around, wide-eyed. Sebastian stands by the door, one brow raised, with a smirk tugging at his mouth. “How long have you been there?”
“Long enough to know you two are keeping secrets from me.” His gaze shifts to Teddy. “Dessert will be out soon.”
Teddy shoots up the second he hears him, posture snapping straight likedessertis a command. I take my time, brushing my palms over my jeans before standing. When I lift my eyes, Sebastian’s already watching us. His eyes stay on Teddy a moment too long, soft in that way he probably doesn’t realise he wears, before they shift to me. To me, though? His expression is unreadable. Heavy. Like he’s trying to work something out. It’s not the first time I’ve caught him looking at me like that lately, or maybe… I’m just noticing it more now.
“Everything all good?” His voice is low as he speaks.
I tilt my head. “With Teddy? Yup, we’re cool.”
He studies me for a moment longer, eyes narrowing slightly. “Didn’t mean with Teddy.”
Oh.My stomach dips again. He meant me?
“I—yeah. Fine.”
It’s not the full truth, but it’s all I can manage under that stare. He’s not supposed to ask questions like that. Not about me. Not when I’m already toeing lines I shouldn’t even look at. His mouth twitches. Almost into a smile. Almost not. “My family can be… a lot. They love to ask questions.”
That softens me. Just a little.
“They’re lovely,” I admit. “Really. It’s just… hard beingBradley’s sisterall the time. Feels like I’m walking around with someone else’s name tag pinned to my chest.” I force a grin back onto my face before the moment can get too heavy. “Come on. Let’s have some dessert. I should probably go help your mum.”
I move to step past him, but his voice follows, quieter this time. “What was the pinky promise about?”
I pause, glancing over my shoulder. “Now that would ruin the fun, wouldn’t it?”
My tone is light, teasing. Deliberately vague. And before he can press, I step forward, brushing past him toward thehouse, pretending the warmth blooming in my chest is just the afternoon sun.
14
Sebastian
“Let’s organise something special this year,” Sandra says on the line, voice too chipper for a Wednesday morning. “A real birthday. Not just you hiding at home with takeaway.”
“Definitely not happening.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “What am I? Sixteen again?”
“God, you’re boring,” she groans. “We haven’t celebrated a birthday in years.”
“It was Timmy’s two months ago,” I remind her, deadpan.
“That’s not what I mean. I mean anadultone. With friends. Your friends. Drinks, and the kids, obviously. But a proper night, Sebastian. You deserve one.”
I sigh, spin my pen between my fingers, and glance through the glass wall of my office. Officers moving past in pairs, clipped voices carrying fragments of conversation. Phones ringing off desks. The drone of printers spitting out reports. The kind of white noise that never shuts off.
This morning started early. Too early. I’d slipped out before the sun had warmed the grass, uniform crisp on my body. Olivia had her hair twisted up and was humming under herbreath while Teddy clutched his picture book. I’d gotten a quick “Morning, Bash” before she bent low to pinky swear him into finishing his toast.
It’s jarring, having her in my house. In my space. She moves around the place like it isn’t haunted by my past failures, like the walls aren’t listening. And worse, Teddy’s loosening up. Talking more. Smiling more. It’s been a month. A whole month, and she’s done more for him than the last two sitters managed in the past few years. That thought twists something sharp and guilty in me. But deep down, relief simmers there, too.
On top of that, my morning at work didn’t cut me any extra slack. We spent two hours chasing down intel on a stolen farm ute tied to a broader theft ring, cross-checking CCTV from a petrol station with the list of known offenders Bradley keeps pinned to his whiteboard like a trophy wall. Then more paperwork—always paperwork. My head’s pounding, my coffee’s cold, and Sandra’s still chirping in my ear about party decorations like I’m turning twenty-one again for the first time.
“Hello? Did you hear me?” Her voice is sharp enough to snap me out of my thoughts.
“Huh? What?” My pen slips from my hand, clattering against the desk.
