Olivia slipped her phone back into her pocket, her expression unreadable. “I’m just making sure I understand everything,” she said quietly.
The next thirty minutes stretched on, thick with tension.
Neither of them spoke much.
Rebecca paced inside the house, occasionally glancing out the window. Olivia remained on the porch, sitting beside her suitcases, her hands resting in her lap. The night air was cool, brushing gently against her skin, but she barely noticed.
Her mind drifted back—to her father.
Jonathan Carter.
He had always been the quiet one. The steady one. The kind of man who didn’t speak loudly but made sure things were taken care of.
Especially when it came to her.
A pair of headlights cut through the darkness, pulling her back to the present.
A black SUV rolled into the driveway and came to a smooth stop.
The driver’s door opened, and Daniel Hayes stepped out, dressed in a dark suit, a leather folder tucked neatly under his arm. His presence was calm, composed—the kind of calm that came from knowing exactly what you were doing.
He walked up the driveway with measured steps, his eyes briefly taking in the scene—the suitcases, Olivia, Rebecca standing just inside the doorway.