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Neither of us says anything after that.

We don't need to.

The future has just rewritten itself, and we're both trying to catch up. By the time Maggie turns toward the river instead of town, I don't argue.

A few minutes later we're sitting on a weathered bench overlooking the water. The river cuts through Redwood Run with the same confidence it's always had, winding past trees and docks and the familiar buildings scattered along the bank.

How the hell can everything look so normal?

I wrap both hands around the pregnancy folder in my lap.

Maggie bumps her shoulder against mine. "You've been staring at the same duck for five minutes."

"It’s judging me."

"A duck?"

"It knows I've made poor decisions."

Maggie follows my gaze. "That's fair. You did come here planning to stay a short while."

"Yes.” I turn my body to face her. “Mags, I'm terrified."

Her expression softens. "I'd be worried if you weren't."

"I don't know how to handle any of this."

She stretches her legs out in front of her. "Good news. Every parent in history starts with that exact qualification."

"That isn't reassuring."

"It wasn't intended to be."

I shake my head, fighting down another laugh of supressed hysteria.

My grip tightens around the folder, because the pregnancy isn't the only thing sitting in my chest. It's the other conversation I've been avoiding. The one that feels almost bigger.

"I don't know what this means,” I say. “I was planning on going back to my life, but now…”

Maggie turns her head toward me. "Law."

"No."

"Law, I've watched you organize everything, all the time. Then Ashby smiles at you, and suddenly, you're staring into space like you've forgotten your own name."

Heat crawls up my neck. "Please stop talking."

"I haven't even gotten to Briggs yet."

"Maggie."

"Or Torin."

I cover my face with one hand. “You’re enjoying this entirely too much.”

When her laughter finally eases, she nudges my knee. "Tell me."

I take a long, deep breath .