The kindergarten rooms were at the opposite end of the wing, and the noise was astonishing. I opened the door on the left and was met with a barrage of nervous parents and excited children, all scrambling to put away their supplies and find their backpack hooks.

The redhead I was looking for spotted me over the heads of her classmates.

“Morgan!” She parted the seas like the social butterfly she was and flew into my arms. I dropped down to her eye level, careful to keep my skirt from riding up.

“You look amazing!” I held my finger out, and she obligingly twirled in her fluffy skirt and sequin-covered shirt. Her hair lay in perfectly formed ringlets that I knew wouldn’t last past the first recess.

“Mommy did my hair.” She grinned.

“You did a great job.” I smiled up at Claire, who looked as uncomfortable as humanly possible, but she was here. She might be living in Jackson’s house and sleeping in his bed, but she was doing it for the good of Finley. They weren’t together…at least that’s what I reminded myself to keep my claws sheathed.

Besides, Jackson and I weren’t together, so she had every right to sleep in his bed.

Right.

“Thanks.” She offered me a tight smile. Things weren’t exactly easy between us, but I appreciated that she’d at least turned off her seek-and-destroy glare when it came to me.

“Finley, your daddy sent this for you.” I handed Fin the daisy, and her entire face lit up.

“It’s beautiful.” She drew out the word with reverence. “He FaceTimed this morning. He told Mommy I could wear my skirt!”

“Against my better judgment,” Claire muttered, sending an obvious glance around the much less ostentatious outfits in the room.

“I’m putting it on my desk!” Finley carried the flower like it was a nuclear bomb, dodging her classmates every step of the way.

“Did you know you’re supposed to volunteer?” Claire asked in a hushed whisper as I rose to my feet. “And not just every once in a while. They want classroom aides, and story-time readers, field-trip chaperones, and I work. There are a thousand sign-up sheets over there!”

“It can be a lot, but school resources aren’t always what we’d wish, so having parents step in can really help stretch our budget,” I explained with a small smile. “But you don’t have to. That’s the whole point of being a volunteer, and I know you’re taking on a lot right now.”

“Right, and all these other parents are just going to think I’m the loser mom who can’t show up for story time Thursday, and they all know that I haven’t been here as much as I would have liked. Gossip in a small town never dies.” She pursed her lips.