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Laurel clutches her phone and closes her eyes.

Moving automatically, I reach down to collect the crayons before they roll too far beneath nearby tables.

Briggs grabs Bun one second before impact.

Ashby slides Laurel’s laptop out of the danger zone and relocates the milkshake.

Laurel opens her eyes, then proceeds to apologize to everyone involved despite none of it being remotely her fault.

Suddenly, the whole shape of things becomes painfully obvious—Laurel apologizing to three different people for trying to take work calls and answer emails with one hand and keeping Lucy happy and entertained with the other.

The drive back to Ben’s house is mostly quiet. Lucy falls asleep halfway there with Bun crushed beneath her cheek and one small sneaker untied.

Laurel looks wrecked by the time we pull into the driveway.

“You should sleep tonight,” Ashby tells her softly once Briggs carries Lucy inside.

She lets out one tired laugh. “I should, but I probably won’t.”

“Try anyway.”

I carry Lucy upstairs to her room without waking her. Laurel changes her into pajamas, her movements uncertain but unfailingly gentle. Lucy murmurs but still doesn’t wake when Laurel tucks her into bed, taking great care to position Bun and a carved wooden fox I recognize as one of June’s under each small hand.

I smile to myself as we sneak out and turn off the light.

For her, this is progress.

By the time me, Briggs, and Ashby finally step back onto the porch later, the rain has started again. The porch light shimmers pale gold across wet gravel, while the woods beyond the property disappear into black.

We make no move to leave immediately. Briggs leans against the railing, smoking. Ashby stands with his back to the railing, hands in his coat pockets, watching the house.

I perch on the top step, far enough under to miss the rain.

I know why we’re still here.

Finally, I look toward them both. “Laurel can’t keep doing this alone.”

Briggs exhales a cloud of smoke. “No shit.”

Ashby’s gaze stays fixed on the upstairs window, where Lucy’s bedroom is. “She thinks she has to, though,” he says.

“She’s trying to work,” I say. “Track Maggie. Deal with Tom. Learn how to take care of a kid she barely knows.” I drag a hand across the back of my neck. “Lucy’s scared all the time, and Laurel’s so busy trying not to fail her she barely breathes.”

The rain thickens, bringing mist with it.

Briggs flicks ash into the darkness. “You got a suggestion?”

I look back toward the house with Ben’s family inside.

“Yeah,” I say. “We help with Lucy.”

That gets their attention.

“She trusts us already,” I continue. “At least enough. School pickups. Dinners. Whatever Laurel needs.”

Briggs nods. “Kid likes us.”

“She likes you because you resemble a bear,” I remind him.