My gaze traveled around the kitchen. Justin watched me and Mason like a hawk, his alarm bells likely going off at Walker’s name, as well. But Lyla was blissfully unaware as she put a stack of tortillas in a warmer. “Jus, can you finish up my guacamole? All of the ingredients are prepped. You just need to smash everything together.”

We’d had plenty of Mexican feasts together, and he knew what he was doing. He pushed off the counter. “I want to hear what Walker—”

Mason cut him off with a head shake. “Let us talk to him first. We’ll fill you in afterwards.”

Justin looked as if he wanted to argue. I moved in and bumped his shoulder with mine. “Only the truth, right? I’ll tell you whatever you need to know, okay?”

“Okay,” he mumbled and turned to the counter where I’d set the ingredients for the guac.

Mason and I headed for the front door. My fingers couldn’t stay still. I braided them together and then undid the action, only to start all over again. Mason reached out a hand, covering mine and squeezing. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

“You don’t know that.” I’d had too many experiences where things ended up the farthest thing from okay.

His gaze locked with mine as we stopped just shy of the front door. “I won’t stop until we make sure it is. I promise you.”

I had the sudden desire to lean into him. To bury my face in Mason’s chest and have him wrap his arms around me. I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to fight the pull. “Thank you.”

He released his hold on my hands, and I felt the loss immediately. It was as if the world was suddenly ten degrees colder. “I’ve got your back, Anna.”

I didn’t agree or disagree. I simply made a humming noise in the back of my throat. Mason didn’t push. He only smiled at me and pulled open the front door. Walker was already heading up the front steps. He held up a tin. “These are from Taylor. She wanted you guys to have some treats your first night here.”

I took the container he extended to me. “That was so thoughtful of her. She didn’t need to go to the trouble of baking anything.”

Walker chuckled. “Oh, she didn’t bake. She got an assortment of things from the Kettle. If she’d made these, the box would probably still be smoking.”

I pressed my lips together to attempt to hold in my laughter. “Well, thank her for sending them over.”

“I will.” His expression sobered, and I instantly knew the goodies weren’t the only reason he was here. “The social worker is going to do a visit tomorrow. Can you guys be ready for that?”