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Tom spots Laurel at the same time.

Relief flashes across his face.

Real relief.

For one second he just looks exhausted.

Then he sees me beside her and his expression hardens.

He starts toward the truck before Laurel’s even fully unbuckled.

“What the hell is this?” he snaps the second she steps out.

Parents nearby glance over immediately.

Laurel straightens automatically, spine going rigid. “Tom.”

“You got my daughter riding around with these people now?”

My jaw tightens.

These people.

Tom points at me. “This one was at the house the other day too.”

“He’s helping,” Laurel says.

“Helping with what exactly?” Tom laughs harshly. “Playing biker families while Maggie’s missing?”

Heads turn.

Nearby conversations start slowing down.

Great.

Tom steps closer. “You think this looks normal? Bringing strangers around Lucy?”

I move around the front of the truck.

“Laurel,” I say, “go get Lucy.”

Tom notices the movement immediately. His shoulders tense. “Oh, there it is,” he snaps. “The big, tough guy routine.”

“I don’t need a routine,” I say.

“Laurel shouldn’t have Lucy around men like you.”

The irony nearly kills me.

“Men like him?” Laurel repeats in the tone of a headteacher after blood.

Tom gestures wildly toward me. “You don’t know these people.”

“I know enough.”

“No, you don’t.” His voice cracks, then rises. “Maggie would lose her mind if she knew our daughter was around these bikers while you⁠—”

“Our daughter?” Laurel cuts in brutally.