Chapter 22
Phoebe woke late the next morning, surprised and a little unsettled by how deeply she’d slept. Normally, when she woke with her nerves jumping like beans, she’d jog to clear her thoughts and settle down, but she wasn’t sure she could leave. What were the rules of being in Jake’s custody?
She stretched and sighed, then sat up and looked around. She’d been too tired last night to do more than absorb the fact that Jake looked like his mother and that Debra Kirby was a kind person who was worried about her son.
The room she’d shown Phoebe to was cheerful and neat. It could even be called quaint. The furniture was western and rustic, the curtains white lace. The wall by the bed was a family photo album of the-Kirby-boys-grow-up. Jake was easy to identify, because his hair was ligh
