“Aunt Brie!” Finley dropped my hand and ran toward her aunt, who was seated behind her desk and a pile of papers.

“Hey, Finley!” Brie got out of her chair and gave Fin a hug.

“What are you doing here so late?” I asked, leaning against one of her students’ desks.

“Well, I’m grading papers, and I knew this little lady had orientation tonight, so I thought I’d wish her luck! Let’s get a picture!” She took her cell phone from the desk and snapped a picture of Fin.

“Do you like my dress?” Fin asked, spinning with a squeak against the linoleum floor.

“Very glamorous. And look at your hair!” she gushed. “If that’s not the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen!”

“Morgan did it!”

“Did she?” Brie shot me a raised eyebrow. “Well, I love it! That Morgan sure is talented, isn’t she?”

“Yes! And she’s going out with Daddy next weekend!” Fin clapped.

Oh, shit.

“Fin, it’s not like a date-date,” I told her. We were going to have to discuss expectations. I didn’t need Fin’s heart set on something that wasn’t even on the table right now. “And how do you even know?”

She looked at me sheepishly. “My iPad told me.”

Right. She had access to the family calendar and got notifications—my bad. But— “When exactly did your iPad tell you?”

She pressed her lips in a little line.

“Fin?”

“When we left the house.”

“You snuck your iPad into the car? Where? How?” I folded my arms across my chest.

“Under my jacket.” She shrugged unapologetically.

“That’s why you didn’t argue about putting it on,” I mused, giving my daughter a point for pure mischievousness. “But I didn’t say you could bring it. Tech stays home.”

Her eyes darted from Brie’s to mine and back again. “You didn’t say I couldn’t bring it…”

“She has you there,” Brie acknowledged. “What do you say we walk you down to the kindergarten rooms?”

“Yes, please!” Finley bounced with excitement.

We walked out of Brie’s room and almost ran right into one of Fin’s friends from preschool, which meant Fin was already starting down the hall with Julie, no longer caring about an escort.

I glanced at the door that would be Morgan’s next year.

“She’s not just some tourist, you know,” Brie said softly, motioning toward the door. “If you start something with her and it ends badly, I’m the one stuck hearing about it at work, and more importantly, it will affect Fin.”

“Is that why you told Claire about Morgan?” I questioned as we passed bulletin boards full of artwork.

She gave me an indignant scoff. “I told my sister because she has a right to know that you’re putting yourself in a position to move on.”

“I moved on years ago.”