Amber exhales slowly. “I just want to say something.”
Every muscle in my body locks.
“I’m grateful,” she continues. “I really am. You all stepped up when I couldn’t. You took care of her. You gave her stability. I’ll never forget that.” Her eyes flick to Norah, sharp. “Even if some people got a little too comfortable.”
“That’s enough,” I warn quietly.
Amber scoffs. “I’m just telling the truth.”
“Watch how you talk to her,” Ryker snaps, finally losing some of his restraint. “She has done nothing but show up for Maisie.”
Norah opens her mouth, probably to defuse it, but I cut in first.
“Amber,” I say, keeping my voice steady by sheer force of will. “We know you’re hurting. But this isn’t the way to handle it.”
She turns on me then, eyes blazing. “You don’t get to tell me how to be a mother.”
“I’m not her father,” I reply evenly. “But I am her uncle, and I’m allowed to care when something feels wrong.”
Her laugh is bitter. “What feels wrong is that I didn’t get a say in any of this. You took her without telling me.”
“To protect her,” I say, the words tasting like ash. “You needed space. We did what we had to do. And you told me to keep her.”
“Well, now I’m here,” she says. “And as her mother, I know what’s best for her.”
Ryker shifts beside me. “The best place for Maisie is Fox Hollow. She’s getting used to people here. She’ll make friends here. She can grow up right here, with a community that cares about her, right by her side.”
Amber’s eyes flash. “I didn’t agree to that.”
“You did,” Ryker says. “The first time you left her here. And when you asked Jude to keep her for the holidays.”
Silence slams down hard.
Then Amber does something that makes my stomach drop.
She smiles.
It’s thin and brittle and full of something ugly underneath. “Funny,” she says softly. “You all sure moved on fast from Claire.”
Ryker flinches like she has slapped him.
“That’s a low blow,” he growls.
Amber shrugs. “Is it? Or am I just stating the obvious? You lost someone, and you found a way to replace her, but now that I want to deal with my grief by taking care of the only part of my life that I actually care about, y’all want to play righteous advocates. You don’t get to judge me for how I’m healing. I’m not judging you for how you chose to.”
“Don’t,” I snap. “Do not bring her into this.”
“She was my friend too,” Amber fires back. “And she’s gone. Just like my baby. Funny how life keeps taking things from me, huh?”
Maisie’s mug rattles against the table as she sets it down, hands shaking.
Norah moves immediately, crouching beside her. “Hey,” she says gently. “Why don’t we grab your jacket, okay?”
Amber turns toward her. “I’ll do that.”
“I have it,” Norah replies softly. “It’s no trouble.”
Amber’s lips curl. “You really like playing house, don’t you?”
