The day care is bustling when we arrive. Parents drop off children, and teachers prepare for the day. Ms. Davis greets us warmly, already assigning Trenton to help with the boys' bathroom breaks before the field trip.
"Morgan!" a small voice calls out, and I look down to find Charlie Harris staring up at me, her father standing behind her.
"Good morning, Charlie," I say, forcing brightness into my voice. "Are you excited for the fire station today?"
She nods enthusiastically. "Daddy says he might come too. Right, Daddy?"
My stomach drops. I hadn't considered that possibility.
"We'll see, sweetheart," Evan says, his eyes finding mine over his daughter's head. "If Ms. Morgan needs more volunteers."
"I think we're all set," I say quickly. "Trenton and Matthew are both helping today."
Evan smiles with his mouth only. "Trenton and Matthew?"
"My partners," I clarify, watching his face carefully.
Something flickers across his expression. Disbelief, then darker. "Partners," he repeats.
"We're home for good now," Trenton says, appearing at my side. His posture is casual, but I feel the tension radiating from him. "Just in time to help with field trips."
Evan's gaze moves between us, reassessing. "How… nice for you all."
"Daddy, come on!" Charlie tugs at his hand, oblivious to the undercurrents. "Ms. Davis said I could help pass out the permission slips!"
Evan allows himself to be pulled away, but his final look is like the unwelcome brush of a stranger's hand in a crowd, brief but not brief enough.
"You okay?" Trenton murmurs.
I nod, but my hands are trembling slightly. "Just… keep an eye on him today."
"Wasn't planning on doing anything else," he assures me.
The morning passes in a flurry of activity. The children are electric with their excitement about the field trip, their energy infectious. I lose myself in their enthusiasm, in the simple joy of watching their faces light up as we explain what they'll see at the fire station.
Matthew arrives just before we're scheduled to leave, his expression carefully neutral. He pulls me aside while Trenton helps the children line up.
"Greyson's looking into Evan," he says quietly. "Nothing yet, but he's got feelers out."
"And the clubhouse?" I ask, noticing the fresh Devil Souls cut he's wearing.
"All good. Everyone sends their love." He glances toward the line of children. "You ready for this?"
I take a deep breath. Trenton kneels to help a little boy with his shoelaces, his large, scarred hands surprisingly deft. He whispers something that makes the boy giggle, and a warmth spreads through my chest, chasing away some of the morning's chill.
"Let's go see some fire trucks," I say, forcing a smile.
The firefighters are patient saints, letting the kids scramble over the trucks and blast the sirens. I'm helping a girl adjust a helmet when I see him, not Evan the engaged father, but someone else. The vibes he is putting off has me on edge, my skin crawling.
He's leaning against the far wall, phone ignored in his hand, watching Trenton lift a laughing Charlie onto the driver's seat. He's not smiling. And he's not looking at his daughter.
"He's been standing there for ten minutes," Matthew says, appearing at my elbow. "Hasn't helped with anything."
"Charlie's with the group learning about 911," I observe. "He's not even watching her."
Matthew goes very still. "That's not why he's here."
The firefighters announce a demonstration of the equipment, drawing everyone's attention. I use the distraction to check on each child, making mental notes of who needs bathroom breaks and who is getting tired.
