"What?"
"You heard me." He pulls me closer, his arm wrapping around my shoulders. "We're coming to the day care on Monday. As volunteers."
Trenton agrees without hesitation, already reaching for his phone on the nightstand. "We'll help with the field trip. No one needs to know why we're really there."
The tension in my chest eases slightly. "You'd do that?"
"Em," Trenton says, his voice softer now, "we've spent the last six years keeping you safe from thousands of miles away. Now we're here." He cups my face in his hand. "No one gets near you without going through us first."
"I don't want you to think I'm weak," I whisper.
Matthew's expression darkens. "There's nothing weak about asking for help. Especially when you've been carrying this alone."
I let myself sink back between them, their warmth surrounding me like a shield. "I love those kids so much. They're the reason I kept going some days when missing you both was too hard."
"Then we'll keep them safe too," Trenton promises. "All of them."
Sleep comes easier with their reassurance, but my dreams are restless. I'm searching room after room for something I can't name, each door opening onto another hallway, the urgency mounting until it tips into dread. I wake just before dawn, disoriented until Matthew's voice grounds me.
"Hey, it's okay," he murmurs, pulling me against his chest. "We're here."
"Bad dream," I manage, my heart still racing.
Trenton's already up, moving quietly around the bedroom. "I've been thinking. We should take separate cars tomorrow. I'll go with you in the morning, Matt can join us after stopping by the clubhouse."
"For what?" I ask, sitting up.
Matthew's hand strokes my back in slow circles. "Greyson has connections at the local PD. I want to know if there's anything on this Evan guy."
I hadn't considered that possibility. "You think he has a record?"
"Doesn't hurt to check," Trenton says, pulling on a t-shirt. "And if not, we'll be there to make sure he keeps his distance."
The rational part of me knows this might be an overreaction. But the look in Evan's eyes when he touched my shoulder on Friday wasn't rational. It was like he was measuring me, figuring out exactly how much he could get away with.
"I'll call Ms. Davis," I decide, reaching for my phone. "Tell her you're both volunteering."
The call goes quickly, and Ms. Davis is thrilled to have extra hands for the field trip. By the time I hang up, the sun is rising, casting golden light across our bedroom.
"I should get up," I say, reluctant to leave their warmth.
"Shower together?" Matthew suggests, already swinging his legs out of bed.
The shower provides a brief respite from the anxiety building inside me. Under the hot spray, with Trenton's hands in my hair and Matthew's lips on my neck, I can almost forget about Evan Harris. Almost.
As I dress for work Monday morning, the unease returns. I choose my clothes carefully. Nothing that might attract attention, nothing Evan could interpret as encouragement.
"Stop," Matthew says, noticing my hesitation. He takes my hands, stilling them. "Don't let this asshole change who you are."
"He's already started," I admit. "I've been wearing baggy sweaters to work for weeks. Taking different routes home."
Trenton appears in the doorway, his expression hardening. "It ends today."
The drive to the day care feels different with Trenton beside me. Part of me is relieved, but another part feels sick with guilt. I just got them back. The last thing I want is to drag them into a mess that started while they were gone.
"I just…" I stare at the colorful building, at the playground where I've spent six years making a life. "This place was supposed to be safe. It feels like he's tainting it."
He reaches across the console, his hand covering mine. "He's the one who tainted it, Morgan. Not you. And we'll make it safe again. That's a promise."
