“I’m an aunt again.” The words came out softer than she expected.
Naomi’s smile held, but something in her expression shifted. “For now.”
Rowan straightened. “What do you mean?”
Naomi was quiet for a moment, her hand moving in a slow steady rhythm along the baby’s back. Then she exhaled.
“It’s a long story. But the short version is that Grace’s mother, Sissy, showed up here a few months ago very pregnant, claiming to need help.” She paused. “She was actually working for Richard Harding. Gathering information—security codes, camera locations, schedules. Anything she could use to help him get the property back.”
Rowan stared at her. “Richard sent a pregnant woman to spy on you?”
“He did. She disabled cameras. Filed false complaints with the county. She believed every word he’d told her—that he was innocent, that Sarah had turned everyone against him.” She let out a short, humorless breath. “She was wrong about all of it. When everything came out, the federal fraud charges came with it. She’d been filing for benefits under multiple names across different states. They arrested her right after Grace was born.”
Rowan looked at the baby. “And Grace?”
“Sissy had no family willing to take her. She grew up in foster care.” Naomi looked down at Grace, her expression going soft in a way that made everything else feel sharper. “She asked me. Said she didn’t want Grace going into the system.”
“And you said yes.”
“I said yes.” Naomi glanced up. “There’s one more thing. Richard is Grace’s father.”
Rowan closed her eyes for half a second. “Of course, he is.”
“Which means the Hardings want her.” Naomi’s voice dropped. “His brother. His mother. They’ve made that very clear. But Sissy is terrified of them. She’s seen enough to know they’d use Grace, not raise her. She doesn’t want them anywhere near her daughter.”
Rowan looked at her sister—at the careful way she held the baby, at the tension she was trying so hard to keep out of her face.
“So you could lose her,” Rowan murmured. “Either to Sissy when she gets out or to the Hardings before then.”
Naomi’s gaze dropped back to Grace. “I knew what I was getting into from the beginning. This was never meant to be permanent.”
“But that doesn’t make it easier.”
“No.” A faint smile formed that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “It doesn’t.”
Rowan looked at the baby—at the small trusting face, the fist curled against Naomi’s shoulder—and felt something tighten in her chest.
She’d been calling home every week. Apparently not nearly enough.
Footsteps sounded behind them.
Caleb stepped inside. “Before I forget—Wes will be joining us for dinner tonight.”
The relief Rowan had felt upstairs vanished.
She hadn’t realized how much she’d been counting on that space until it was gone. Until the thought of sitting across from him, making conversation like nothing had happened, settled in her chest like a stone.
“Oh.” She forced herself to sound more cheerful than she felt. Acting 101. “Okay.”
Caleb studied her as if weighing whether to say more. “I figured it made sense, since he’ll be working with us and all.”
“Of course,” Rowan said. “Yes, absolutely. That totally makes sense.”
It did.
But that didn’t mean she liked it.
She could handle this. It was just dinner. Just a conversation.
