I freeze for half a second before forcing myself to relax. She says it so casually, but the way she lingers on his name feels off.

“Yeah. Bennett.” I say not giving her his last name. Not yet.

“Helping him,” she repeats like she’s turning the words over, searching for their weight. “Teddy, I don’t mean to pry, but no one seems to know much about him. Other than the fact he’s writing a travel blog.”

I lean against the counter, crossing my arms, keeping my voice neutral. “He’s new. People don’t know him yet.”

She nods, thoughtful. “I understand wanting to give someone the benefit of the doubt. But you have to admit, Teddy, his sudden appearance… it’s curious timing.”

Her words are careful. Measured. On a first read, it sounds like she’s just being protective. But now, I wonder. Is she feeling me out? Trying to gauge how much I know?

My stomach tightens, but I keep my face still. “Bennett’s not the issue here.”

Aubrey tilts her head slightly, her expression unreadable. “I’m not saying he is,” she says gently. “I’m just saying to be careful. You have a good heart, and I’d hate to see someone take advantage of that.”

Her words soften the edge of my frustration. Aubrey has always been protective, but this feels different. Like she’s worried about more than she’s letting on.

The words should be reassuring. They used to be.

But now, they feel… off.

I can’t put my finger on it, not exactly. Maybe it’s the way she’s framing it—like she’s planting a seed of doubt in my mind. About Bennett. About Mo. About everything.

Why does it feel like she’s trying to get ahead of something?

I study her across the counter. The woman who practically raised me. The woman I never once doubted.

She’s watching me carefully, waiting for my response.

“I’m being careful,” I say, my voice even.

Aubrey smiles, pleased. But why does it feel like I just told her what she wanted to hear?

She hesitates again, I’ve never seen her this unsure before

“There’s another thing I wanted to talk to you about.” Her voice softens. “You’re all the family I have left, Teddy. I don’t want to lose you.”

The quiet vulnerability in her tone makes my chest tighten. This is different. More personal.

She takes a deep breath. “Did I ever tell you about the night your parents had their accident?”

A sharp prickle runs down my spine. I straighten. “What about it?”