Page 14

I should have known she’d catch that.

My parents met when my mum was on a backpacking trip in Australia. When she got pregnant with me, my dad married her and played house for a bit—then decided he didn’t want a family after all. I’d grown up watching her struggle and handle everything alone, and I could never wrap my mind around how easy it was for him to walk away.

I nodded without saying more.

Nan died first. Then Mum got sick. I had no control over anything, no matter how hard I tried to hold on to them.

Kirby studied me for a second, then her eyes softened a bit. “I was in the US,” she said, “New York. On a six-month graphic design contract.”

“Bad timing,” I said as the tension in my chest eased.

“The worst.” She dug through her bag of apricots again. “I made it to the airport with a couple of people, then lost track of them after we boarded.” She shrugged like it didn’t matter, but the glint in her eyes told the truth. “I was on my own after that.”

We all had been. Until now.

Outside, a long, raspy moan floated on the air, and the exhaustion I’d been keeping at bay washed over me.

We had endless hours to talk in the car tomorrow.

Tonight, I wanted to close my eyes and pretend this shitshow didn’t exist.

“I’m calling it,” I said.

“This one looks good.” Ava paused in the entrance of a room designed for older kids, with a couple of open areas where we could set up beds.

She flipped one of three switches beside the door, illuminating the far end.

The room faced the back fence of the childcare centre, and the door leading to the playground outside hadn’t been damaged. No broken windows, and we had a clear line of sight to the two exit points.

I dropped the backpacks just past the threshold.

Ava and Kirby moved ahead of me, weaving between low tables with chairs stacked upside down on top.

Ava headed straight for the storage cupboard in the far corner and disappeared inside, stepping out again with a stack of blue mats tucked under her arm.

She held one out to Kirby as I joined them.

“Oooh, comfy.” Kirby took it and went off in search of her spot.

Ava’s brows shot up. “One or two?” she asked me.

“Are they my only options?”

A smile hovered at her mouth. “Unless you want to build a tower of mattresses, and we’ll call you the Princess and the Pea.”

“I don’t know what that is,” I said, distracted by the light in her eyes. “I’ll take two.”

As she handed them to me, our fingers brushed, and she inhaled a quick breath.

Under normal circumstances, I might have made a joke. Tried to lighten the mood. But the tiny quirk at the corner of her mouth made me think she was already laughing at her reaction.

Holding back a smile, I caught the mats before they could hit the floor and turned away without commenting.

“Over here,” Kirby said. “We should stick close.”

The area she’d chosen was tucked behind a low bookshelf, surrounded by a couple of oversized beanbags. Half hidden, but not so much that we’d be trapped if something went wrong.

She’d already thrown her mat down and tossed a couple of bright cushions on top, leaving the other cushions for Ava and me.