19
EMERGENCY CONTACT
Tori
My phone buzzes while I’m restocking supplies, and Zayden’s name on the screen makes my stomach do a little flip.
Zayden:I need a favor.
Zayden:Hannah’s sick. Stomach bug. Can’t pick up Maisie from school.
Zayden:Flight from Jersey got delayed. I won’t land until 4.
Zayden:I tried the backup sitter, but she’s not answering.
Three dots appear. Disappear. Appear again. I didn’t travel with the team for this one—just an overnight trip to Jersey, quick turnaround.
Zayden:School gets out at 3:20.
I check the clock. 2:47.
Me:Send me the address. I’ll head over now.
Zayden:You’re sure?
Me:Already grabbing my keys.
Zayden:I owe you.
Me:You really don’t.
• • •
Twenty minutes later, I’m standing in the pickup line at the elementary school, feeling distinctly out of place among the SUVs and minivans and the moms who clearly all know each other. A woman in yoga pants and a messy bun gives me a once-over, probably trying to figure out if I’m a nanny, an aunt, or some random kidnapper.
I give her a little wave. She does not wave back.
The doors open, and kids start streaming out—a flood of backpacks, lunch boxes, and high-pitched chatter. I scan the crowd until I spot her. Maisie, walking with her head down, her dinosaur backpack nearly as big as she is.
She looks up, sees me, and her whole face transforms.
“Tori?”
She breaks into a run, weaving through the other kids, and crashes into my legs hard enough to make me stumble. Her arms wrap around my waist and squeeze.
“Hey, Maze.” I smooth a hand over her hair, something warm and dangerous blooming in my chest. “Surprise.”
“Where’s Hannah?”
“She’s not feeling well, so I’m on pickup duty. That okay?”
She pulls back and looks up at me with those big brown eyes—Zayden’s eyes—and nods solemnly. “That’s very okay with me.”
This kid. Seriously.
“Your dad said I could take you for ice cream if you want. Or we could go to the park. Your call.”
“Ice cream,” she says immediately. “Obviously.”
