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“No.”

Bear’s eyes lift from the phone. “Mm.”

I shove my hands into my jacket pockets. “I’m helping because of Ben.”

“Sure you are.”

I glare at him.

He keeps scrolling. “You know, for a quiet guy, you’ve got extremely loud body language.”

“I hate everybody today.”

“Probably because you haven’t slept properly in a week.”

That stops me.

Bear finally glances up from his phone. “You always worry at your wrist tattoo when you’re stressed and you’ve done it six times since you got here.”

“Bastard.”

He holds the phone out toward me. “Call her. Name’s Ivy Nash. Tell her I sent you and she’ll stop charging double.”

I take the phone.

The screen reflects my face faintly back at me. Tired eyes, hollow face, rain damp hair. A man standing in the middle of somebody else’s problem pretending he understands his own motivations clearly.

The truth is uglier.

Yes, this is about Ben. About unfinished grief and old loyalty and the idea of somebody connected to him disappearing into the dark while we all stand around useless. But underneath that sits another truth, quieter and harder to admit.

Laurel has gotten under my skin.

Now every road in this town seems to eventually lead back toward her.

And if finding Maggie gives me a reason to knock on her door again without pretending too hard, maybe I’m more selfish than I want to believe.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Laurel

By seven thirty in the morning, I’ve already failed at breakfast, emotional regulation, and keeping syrup off a library book.

Lucy sits at the kitchen table, holding Maggie’s old, oversized sweatshirt, silently pushing a blueberry around her plate while I wipe maple syrup from a copy of “The Very Hungry Caterpillar” with the kind of focus I usually reserve for multi-million dollar deals.

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” she says.

“I know.” I dab at the page again. “The caterpillar has survived worse.”

She watches me. “You look angry.”

“I’m angry at everything right now.”

The honesty slips out accidentally.

Lucy blinks.

I straighten immediately. “Not you.”