Callie was suddenly at my side. “It’s not that at all. You tackle more than just about anyone I know. You are incredibly strong and brave, and you love those tiny terrors with a dedication I wish every child that came through the Alliance had.”

Tears gathered in my eyes. “Why do you have to go and make me all emotional?”

She grinned. “Because I’m an evil heifer. Or because you cry at the drop of a hat.”

I smacked her with an oven mitt. “I can’t help it that every emotion I have comes out my eyeballs.”

“No, you can’t.” She picked up her mug and inclined her head towards the table. “Let’s sit.”

The combination of her words and tone said that our joking time was over. It had worry pricking at my insides. I crossed to the table and quickly sank into a chair. “What’s wrong?” A million different possibilities flew through my mind, none of them good.

Callie’s expression was gentle, but her grip on the mug was so tight, her knuckles bleached white. “Your mother was granted early parole. I got notified since the kids went through one of our programs.”

My jaw went slack. We hadn’t heard from Chrissy O’Connor once since her arrest. She never tried to get in touch with me or make amends with the kids. She never once sent a birthday or Christmas card. I’d always had a mixture of relief and pain at the lack of contact. It saved me from having to decide whether or not to allow it, but I knew it had hurt Will and Ava. Mia had no memory of the woman.

I cleared my throat. “She’s supposed to have a twelve-year sentence. It’s been less than seven.”

Callie winced. “The prisons are crowded, and my source says she hasn’t made trouble during her time there. The parole board thought she was a good candidate for early release.”

I vaguely remembered the prosecutor of the case telling me that I had to register with the board if I wanted to be notified of hearings or her release. But I honestly hadn’t thought there was any way she’d get out before her twelve years were up—definitely not after less than seven. But apparently, that was just my naïve belief in the system. My head snapped up. “She’s not coming back to Anchor, is she?”

Callie shook her head. “I talked to her parole officer. She’s going to be moving to Shelter Island. The motor court on the northside.”