She laughed. “I take it you haven’t ever considered it. You should. I won’t lie, it’s the hardest thing you’ll ever do, but it’s also the most rewarding. To create a safe place for a child for as long as they’re with you.”

I swallowed against the prickling feeling at the back of my throat. A safe place. Wasn’t that exactly what Harriet had given me? And it was the greatest gift I’d ever received. One I’d never be able to repay. Not to her anyway. But perhaps I could pay it forward… I gave my head a shake. “Crosby and I aren’t together like that.”

Each word seemed to grate against my skin like barbed wire. Because I wanted us to be together like that. But if I tried to push it, I’d be no better than Alicia, attempting to force him to be someone he wasn’t.

Ingrid’s brows rose. “Really? I just assumed.”

“It’s complicated.”

She gave me a gentle smile. “It always is. Especially when they look like that.”

A startled laugh escaped me. “You’re not wrong.”

Ingrid eyed me thoughtfully. “There are more and more single foster parents. It used to be hard to get approved, but that isn’t the case anymore.”

Heading into parenthood alone, even temporarily, wasn’t something I’d considered since I’d lost my little girl. When I was pregnant, and Grant had cast me off like a pair of ratty shoes, I’d been scared. Absolutely terrified to raise my baby on my own. After college and settling back on Anchor, I’d always planned to find a responsible man to share my life with. One who was steady and stable. A person who wouldn’t run, no matter what came our way.

Maybe that plan had been a mistake. I’d already realized just how much I was missing out on by sticking to my strict and narrow path, this preconceived notion of what a safe life would look like. That no one would walk away from me if I could just be perfect. But maybe I’d missed the most important thing of all. That I had what I needed inside of me, and it had been there all along.

“What’s the approval process like?” The question was out before I could hedge my statement.

“Well, there are classes. Background checks, of course.”

Ingrid kept speaking, but I started to zone out, the words going a bit fuzzy around the edges. Would my miscarriage show on my background check? My absence from college surely would. CPS would have questions. Would they wonder if I was trying to replace my baby? Was I trying to replace my little bean?