Her eyebrow raises. “You do?”

“Jen mentioned it.” I shrug, covering the awkward moment. “She's stopping by with wine, by the way. Thought you could use a friend tonight.”

Relief softens her features. “That sounds perfect.”

I head downstairs to check the security monitors I've set up. The cameras show nothing unusual outside. Nothing but the quiet suburban street where I've lived alone for the past five years.

The doorbell rings at 6:30. Delivery, right on time. I give the driver a generous tip and carry the food to the kitchen.

“Dinner's here.” I call upstairs, unpacking containers of pasta, salad, and breadsticks.

Eric appears first, racing down with the energy only six-year-olds possess. “Is it spaghetti? I love spaghetti!”

I grab plates from the cabinet.

“I guess you’re in luck then.”

Wren follows several minutes later, her business clothes exchanged for leggings and an oversized sweater. Her hair falls loose around her shoulders, and without her usual makeup, she looks softer. More vulnerable.

“Hmm… that smells amazing. Right, Eric?”

He nods. “Thank God you're here, mom. Now, we can eat.”

Wren and I laugh at the same time. Our gaze hold over the boy’s head.

“Mr. Langston! The pasta, please?”

I can’t help my smile as I ruffle the boy’s hair. “Alright. Pasta coming.”

Wren smiles too. It’s the first time I’ve seen her shoulders drop since this whole thing started.

She helps Eric into a chair. “Looks like Eric and I are both starving. I didn't realize how hungry I was.”

“Stress does that.” I divide the pasta onto plates. “You only realize you’ve forgotten to eat many hours later.”

She smiles, accepting the plate I hand her. “You sound like you know from experience.”

“Occupational hazard.” I pour water and a cup of chilled orange juice for everyone. “It’s kinda hard to remember meals when you're scanning for threats.”

Eric looks up, tomato sauce already smeared on his chin. “Are you a superhero?”

The question catches me off guard. “No, buddy. Just a regular guy who notices things.”

“Like a detective?” His eyes widen.

“Something like that.” I smile despite myself.

The doorbell rings again.

I stand, checking the security feed on my phone. “That should be Aunt Jen.”

I open the door to a whirlwind of energy and perfume. Jen carries the kind of energy that feels like a sugar rush in human form.

“Hi dad! Hi everyone! I brought reinforcements!” Jen holds up two bottles of wine and a shopping bag. “And something for my favorite godson.”

She sweeps past me, setting everything down to scoop Eric into a hug.

“Aunt Jen!” Eric squeezes her neck. “I'm staying at Mr. Langston’s house. It's like a fortress!”