“What are you doing here?”

The words came out quiet but sharper than I intended. Seeing Colt standing in my doorway while Kameron held my children felt like worlds colliding.

His hazel eyes moved slowly from Kameron sleeping in the chair to the children curled against him, then finally to me. The weight of his gaze made my skin prickle.

“Kameron mentioned he’ll be gone in town for a while.” His voice was carefully controlled, but I could hear the questions underneath. “Then I saw his truck near your cottage and wanted to make sure everything was…” He paused, taking in the scene again. “Alright.”

My heart hammered against my ribs and a quiet explanation tumbled out of me before I could stop it.

“Luke had sunstroke. The pediatrician left town for a family emergency.” My words came too fast, tripping over each other. “Marisol called me when his fever spiked. She’d been watching them, but couldn’t get it down, and I had to pick them.”

I braced myself for the interrogation. For the accusation. For the calculating look I’d seen in his office three days ago.

Neither came.

“What do you need?” His voice was steady. Practical. “How can I help?”

The question knocked the breath out of me. I’d expected demands for answers. Instead, he stood there offering assistance like this was the most natural thing in the world.

Guilt twisted unexpectedly in my chest. I wasn’t ready for his kindness or understanding. Not when I was hiding so much and pushing them back so hard.

“I need to put the children to bed,” I said, my voice coming out smaller than I intended. “Then you can take Kameron home.”

The words felt inadequate. Stupid, even. But Colt just nodded.

He crossed the room and crouched beside the armchair. “I’ll take the boy. You get your girl.”

Together, we lifted the sleeping children from Kameron’s arms. Lily stirred against my shoulder, mumbling something about purple horses before settling back into dreams.

Colt gathered Levi with a gentleness that made my throat tight, cradling the boy’s head against his broad shoulder.

We carried them down the narrow hallway toward the children’s room. Our footsteps were soft on the worn floorboards and thick silence pressed against my skin.

“Are his shorts dry?” The question slipped out before I could stop it. I glanced at Levi’s small form in Colt’s arms. “I need to know if I should change him before bed.”

Colt shifted the boy slightly, checking without waking him. “Dry.”

“Good. That’s good.” I exhaled slowly. “He wets the bed sometimes. Not often, but enough that I worry about him. The other two never had that problem, but Levi—”

I stopped myself, realizing I was rambling.

“Gosh, I don’t know why I’m even telling you this…”

“Because you’re obviously tired,” Colt said quietly. “And worried. And you’ve been carrying everything alone for a long time.”

The truth of it hit harder than I expected.

I pushed open the door to the children’s room. Three small beds lined the walls, each one covered in quilts my grandmother had made decades ago for me and Ryan. Toys scattered across the floor. Drawings taped to every available surface.

I settled Lily into her bed first, tucking the blankets around her shoulders and brushing a kiss across her forehead. When I turned, I found Colt already lowering Levi onto his mattress.

His movements were practiced. Unhesitant. Like he’d done this a thousand times before.

Then he reached for the shelf above the bed. His hand closed around a stuffed dinosaur—faded green, missing one button eye—and tucked it beside Levi’s sleeping form.

“This should help him rest easier,” Colt murmured.

Before I could respond, a voice came from the doorway. “Why am I cold?”

Kameron stood there, groggy and confused, rubbing one hand across his face. His dark curls were mussed from sleep, his shirt wrinkled where small hands had gripped it.

“I woke up and my arms were empty.” His eyes moved between the small beds and the two adults standing over them. “Thought I dreamed the whole thing for a second.”

“You didn’t dream it.” I moved toward him, desperate for distance from whatever had just passed between me and Colt. “Come on. Both of you. Let’s go.”

I ushered them down the hallway and through the living room, my heart pounding against my ribs. The front door felt miles away. Every step brought us closer to questions I couldn’t answer.

The night air hit my face as we stepped onto the porch. Cool and clean after the day’s brutal heat. Stars scattered across the sky like spilled salt.

“Ivory.” Kameron’s voice stopped me cold. “Whose children are those?”

I turned to face him. His eyes were sharp now, the grogginess burned away by something far more dangerous.

“Mine,” I said. “They’re mine.”

“That’s not what I asked.” He took a step closer. “Where’s their father? Why isn’t he here taking care of them? Why are you doing this alone?”

I looked to Colt, hoping for intervention. Hoping he would redirect the conversation, change the subject, give me an escape route.

His hazel eyes held the same unanswered question.

My children slept inside, innocent of the storm gathering around them.

And I had nowhere left to run.