Part 26

I didn’t meet Daniel right away. I didn’t ask to. I didn’t want to.

It wasn’t spite—it was reality. Letting a new person step onto a cracked bridge before you’ve reinforced it isn’t generosity. It’s recklessness.

Olivia tried for months to keep Daniel separate from Emma, like I insisted. She brought Emma to Sundays alone. She stayed in the kitchen, quiet, respectful, eyes often heavy from late shifts and night classes.

Then, in January, Emma said something that made my stomach drop.

“Mom’s friend Daniel came over,” she mentioned casually, sanding a piece of pine in my workshop. “He brought pizza.”

My hand froze on the clamp.

“When?” I asked.

“Last week,” Emma said with a shrug. “Mom said it was fine. He just dropped it off.”

Dropped it off. A boundary bending under convenience.

“What did he talk about?” I asked.

Emma frowned, thinking. “School. Then he asked if I knew how much college costs.” She looked up, innocent. “I said a lot. He laughed, said good thing you have that trust thing.”

I clenched my jaw.

Emma went on, unaware of the tension. “Mom got quiet. Then he asked if I ever worry you’d change your mind. I didn’t know what to say. Mom told him to stop.”

Good. Olivia had stopped him.

But the question was enough.

When Olivia arrived that Sunday, I kept my voice calm. “Why is Daniel talking to Emma about her trust?”

She froze by the kitchen counter, keys in hand.

“He shouldn’t have,” she said quickly. “I told him that.”

“Why was he there?” I pressed.

Her shoulders sagged. “I’m tired,” she whispered. “I had an exam, Emma was hungry, and he offered. I thought… I thought it was safe.”

Safe. The word people use when they want a shortcut.

“You thought Trevor was safe once,” I said, quiet but firm.

Olivia flinched, tears brimming. “I know,” she whispered. “I’m scared.”

“Then choose,” I said. “Now. Not later.”

She nodded slowly. “Okay.”

That Wednesday, she called.

Her voice shook. “Vin… I looked him up.”