In everything I’d ever thought he’d say—and that left a lot of options because Ward said some crazy stuff—that wasn’t on the list. At all.

“What?” I asked.

“How do you get an eight-year-old to talk about something if they don’t want to?”

“My experience is with older kids,” I started.

“I know, baby, but I figured it was worth a sh—”

“Let me finish.” My back went straight, and I stubbornly lifted my chin. “I said it’s outside my experience, not that I wouldn’t try. But I need a little more to go on.”

“We’re helping a woman and her three girls move. The oldest has herself locked in her bedroom and refuses to come out.”

I went with the most common answer. “She doesn’t want to leave her friends.”

“Her mom says she doesn’t have a lot of them. She’s shy.”

“That can make it worse. It’s rare that kids who struggle socially have zero friends. More often, they end up with bad ones because they’re desperate. The so-called friends bully them, use them, needle away at their self-esteem, and then claim they were kidding. It’s more destructive than a regular bully because the insults come from someone who supposedly likes them. They think if their bestie feels that way, everyone else must really hate them.”

“Fuck, kids are cruel.”

“It’s not just kids who do that,” I murmured. “The point is, that kind of influence can make the idea of starting over even more terrifying.” My gaze landed on my notes about Everly and Aaron. “But it might not be that serious. If she only has a couple of peers she’s close-ish with, she might cling to them more than if she was a popular kid with a huge, tight-knit group. Because when your circle is small, each one takes up a bigger space.”

“I didn’t think about that.”

I pictured movie night at the clubhouse, surrounded by men who’d literally take a bullet for each other. “That’s because you’re the popular kid with the tight-knit group.”

I tried to put myself into the little girl’s shoes. I knew how scary a move could be, even without leaving behind friends. The world was giant and scary to… everyone. But especially a child.

Something Ward said registered, and I asked, “It’s just the mom and kids?”

He hesitated. A long beat. Then another. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft. “The dad died a couple years ago.”

“How?” I asked, trying to piece it together.

“Line of duty.”

Fingers tingling, the rest of my body went numb as I thought about the young family. “Police officer?”

“Firefighter.”

Heartbreaking.

I didn’t know much about firefighters other than they did a lot to honor the ones who died on duty. Plaques, pictures, dinners, all that.