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“Then, I need to call him.”

Fuck. I know Noah is probably allowed one phone call, but I’m not thinking having the principal talk to Noah and finding out he’s in jail will be a good thing.

“If he could call, don’t you think he would have by now?” I grumble.

“Rory!”

Ryan is in the hallway and sees me through the open door and runs in. I immediately bend down so we’re more at eye level. He surprises me by wrapping his arms around me and hugging me tight. I’ve been through so much that maybe I’m still in shock, but in that moment with Ryan’s little arms around me, I feel cared for. Silly, Ryan’s just a loving child, but still I haven’t had just a simple hug in so long…

“Are you here to pick me up? Daddy wasn’t outside and he always told me to come back in if he wasn’t there and he’d send someone to get me,” Ryan says. “Of course, it was always one of my uncles. It was really cool cause I could ride on their bikes and stuff.”

I watch Ryan closely, only half listening to what he has to say. My gaze is centered on his face. I’m losing it. I know that officially now, because for a minute Ryan’s eyes morphed into those of my brother’s. I really need to get out of here.

“I was just explaining to Mrs. Slater, that your dad was called away suddenly and I had to come and get you,” I tell Ryan, shaking my head. I ruffle his soft hair which is so much like his father’s.

“Rory, I appreciate your—”

“It’s cool, Mrs. Slater. Dad would let me go with Rory, she’s not friends with my mother.”

I blink at Ryan’s words, the sentence slithering through me and not in good ways.

His Mother? Why would a child need to be protected from his mother?

“But—” Ryan starts.

“I’m afraid that’s final. I’ll be at the school late tonight because of dance for the eighth-grade class. Ryan can stay with me until Mr. Cross can get here to pick his child up. He will need to clear you to pick up the child, Rory. If he doesn’t—”

“He will. Geez! You mean, I have to stay with you?”

“I’m afraid so Ryan. I have coloring books and crayons though,” she offers and if I wasn’t so stressed and freaked out I’d laugh at Ryan’s response.

“Gee, like I haven’t done that all day.”

“I’ll get your Dad and be back quick, Ryan. You’ll see,” I tell him, and I’m praying that I’m telling him the truth. I’ve never bailed anyone out of jail before. I do have the restraining order against Tony and I plan on showing them. It’s not for the state of Montana, but hopefully it will help.

“Okay, Rory,” Ryan sighs.

I kiss the top of his head and he hugs me again—and seriously his hugs are doing strange things to me. I have to still be in shock. As I walk out the door, I hear Ryan ask Mrs. Slater if he can go help decorate the gym. Hopefully that will keep him occupied.

I pass the restroom on the way out and make a pit stop. I go straight to the sink and splash water on my face, my hands literally shaking.

“Hold it together, Rory. You just have to get Noah and make sure he gets Ryan and then you can go home and pack,” I tell myself. I have to close my eyes against the fear I see staring back at me in the mirror.

I turn around and don’t look back. I’m not getting anything done like this. I can hurt later, I can get mad at leaving everything I’ve built here, and I can cry. Right now, the only thing I can do is get Noah and deliver him to his son.

One step at a time, that’s the only way I’m going to get through this.

I pull out of the school and then let out a scream and almost swerve into oncoming traffic a few minutes later, when Ryan climbs up out of the floor of my car.

“Ryan, what are you doing here?”

“I snuck out. Mrs. Slater thinks I’m in the gym helping hang streamers. Why she thinks I can do that, I don’t know! I’m not even four-foot-tall yet!” he huffs, sitting in the passenger seat.

I have to admit he has a point. I should call Mrs. Slater, but she’ll insist I bring him back and I just don’t have time for that right now.

He buckles up and I’ve never had a child before, but I’m pretty sure they’re supposed to be in the backseat. Then again, he’s in school…

“Shouldn’t you sit in the back?” I ask Ryan, hoping he’ll tell me the truth.

“Doesn’t matter,” he shrugs.

“I thought kids were supposed to sit in the back for safety reasons,” I tell him, taking the turn for downtown where the jail is.

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