Eve snorted. “Ferocious.”
Vincent didn’t smile. “You walk with her to class. You sit near her in the yard. If anyone bothers her, you speak first.” His eyes met mine in the mirror. “Words first.”
I inclined my head.
“And if words don’t work?” Elijah asked, practical as always.
“Then you find a teacher,” I said quickly.
“And if the teacher fails?” Vincent asked, not looking away.
Elijah’s mouth tilted. Caleb’s eyes went small and serious.
“Then you find us,” I said. “Every time.”
Vincent’s gaze held mine for a little while, then shifted back to the road. “Good answer.”
“Thank you,” I muttered, which for some reason made Eve laugh.
The car hummed along quiet streets. The kids filled the silence with small talk—what color chalk Myra liked, whether Petal could go down a slide, if Eli
