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Are you dating anybody?

Did you really move into his mansion?

I wasn’t in the mood to clock in every morning feeling like the lead subject in a local true-crime documentary. I wanted to administer meds, chart my patients, collect my paycheck, and come home to my family in peace. Still, pride didn’t pay utility bills or buy groceries. If the independent clinics didn’t call back by Friday, I knew I’d have to swallow my irritation and walk right through Hallowridge General’s front doors.

I clicked through to a pediatric home-health posting and started skimming the travel radius. It was a fifteen-minute longer commute than I preferred, but the hourly pay was solid. I bookmarked the tab, sighed, and let my head fall back against the plush velvet sofa.

My mind was refusing to cooperate, scattered across every mile between the living room and the elementary school down the road.

Kaidence was all I could think about.

Had he found his classroom without getting overwhelmed?

Did his teacher make him feel welcome?

Did he eat the turkey-and-cheese pinwheels I packed, or was he sitting alone on the edge of the playground with Caspian’s guarded frown, wishing we were back in our old routine?

I reached over, grabbed my phone from the marble coffee table, and checked the screen. 10:17 in the morning.

Lord help me.

The boy had barely been to school for four full hours, and I was already hovering over his student portal like an anxious helicopter parent.

No missed calls from the principal.

No alerts from the school nurse.

No behavioral notes.

Nothing.

Which should have settled my nerves. Instead, it made me wonder if I should call the front office just to ask how his transition was going.

“Lakelyn, leave that poor child alone,” I muttered to the empty room, shaking my head.

Kaidence was fine.

In fact, knowing my son, he was probably charming his way into extra apple juice while I sat here stressing myself gray.

I set the phone facedown and began typing out my clinical rotation history.

I had barely made it through the third hospital entry when the heavy chime of the front doorbell echoed through the foyer.

I frowned, pausing with my fingers hovering over the keyboard. I wasn’t expecting company.

Willow was upstairs in her room with her noise-canceling headset on, handling client calls for her marketing job. Granny was sleeping, and Caspian’s mom was miles away.

I set the laptop aside and walked toward the entrance. Before I could make it across the polished foyer, the bell rang a second time—sharp, impatient, and entirely too familiar.

I leaned forward and looked through the glass peephole.

The breath caught in my throat, instantly souring into irritation.

Chalis.

Of all the arrogant, self-serving people in this town, he was the absolute last face I wanted to see on my porch. For five seconds, I seriously considered turning around and walking right back to the couch, but his eyes were already fixed on the white Range Rover parked in the wide circular drive.

He knew damn well I was home.