His release? And someone else? Who—

“Sydney!”

She heard the voice before she saw Nikola rounding a corner. What in the world? “Nik?”

Nikola hurried across the lobby and pulled her into an easy embrace. Over Nikola’s shoulder, she saw Micah in her friend’s wake, his steps hesitant and heavy.

“I don’t understand what you’re doing here. How did you know . . . when a-and . . . why?”

Nikola released her as Micah reached them. The circles under his eyes had deepened to a dark blue and his clothing was rumpled. “Uh, I was allowed a phone call after they booked me.”

“And you called Nikola? Why would you—”

“Micah,” Nikola interrupted. “Give us a sec, will you?”

Sydney shook her head. “No, we need to talk. We need to figure out . . .”

But Micah was already following Nikola’s instructions, not even looking at Sydney as he moved off to a far corner of the lobby.

She turned to her friend, shock and confusion warring for prominence. “What’s going on? It must’ve been after eleven when he called you. How’d you get here so fast? And why would he—”

“You’ve been gone for almost two weeks, my friend. A lot can happen in that time.” Nikola grinned, two dark braids framing her face, only the slight puffiness of her eyes betraying her tiredness from what had to have been both a late night and an early morning, considering she was here right now.

“I wish I could see the humor in this, but if you knew everything that’s happened in the past few days . . .”

“Then I’ll take pity on you, Syd. And you’re right—Micah’s situation isn’t funny. He’s stopped at the bakery a few times while you’ve been gone. I have to confess, the first time I saw him standing outside the front door before I’d even opened up for the day, I had the urge to go into the back office and avoid him. Got the distinct feeling he’d come only to complain about you leaving town.” Nikola paused. “But then I remembered the way someone else looked standing outside the shop a long time ago, staring at a Help Wanted sign. Like she had the whole world on her shoulders.” She nudged her arm. “A little like you look now, come to think of it.”

In an instant, she had the urge to spill everything to her friend. She wanted to tell her about Maggie and CarleeAnn and JR who was really Tate Carter, Jr., who was really her father.

She wanted to tell her about Neil. But knew even if this were the time and place for it, she’d never be able to find words to do any justice at all to how deeply and fully he’d captured her heart in such a short timeframe.

It was uncanny.

It was undeniable.

It was . . . impossible. Micah. You’re here to talk about Micah.

“So, I guess you didn’t hide away in the back office, then?”