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I need a break from my own thoughts. From case files. From Zeke. From everything. I’m going to make myself sick overanalyzing our relationship. Nothing good will come from that.

I need a distraction.

But most importantly, I need time with Leo.

I check the time, and it’s almost 11:30 AM. Zeke let me sleep late. Moving quickly, I get dressed and run down the hall.

“Hey, buddy,” I call out, poking my head into Leo’s room where he’s sprawled on the floor with his LEGOs. “Want to go get some ice cream?”

His face lights up instantly. “Really? Now?”

“Yep. Right now.” I lean against his doorframe, watching as he scrambles to his feet, nearly tripping over his scattered toys. “Just you and me.”

Within thirty minutes, we’re in my car, Eli following close behind, and heading to our favorite ice cream parlor.

The drive is filled with Leo’s chatter about school and his friends. I listen, really listen, letting his innocent enthusiasmwash over me. When did I last do this? Just spent time with him, no distractions, no case files calling my name?

The ice cream shop is busy with the Saturday afternoon crowd, but Leo doesn’t mind the wait. He presses his face against the glass display, eyes wide as he surveys all the flavors. “Can I try the Brambleberry Crisp?”

“You can try as many as you want.” I ruffle his sandy blond hair. His parents would have loved this—these simple moments with their son.

We end up at a small table by the window where Eli can see us, Leo with his double scoop of Brambleberry Crisp and Wildberry Lavender, me with my Dark Chocolate. The sun streams through the glass, warming my skin as Leo attacks his ice cream with gleeful abandon.

“Aunt Evie?” He looks up, purple ice cream smeared across his chin. “Can we do this more? Just us?”

The question hits me right in the chest. “Yeah, buddy. We can definitely do this more often.” I reach across the table with a napkin to wipe his face. “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy lately.”

He shrugs, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—understanding beyond his years. “It’s okay. You catch bad guys. That’s important.”

“You’re important too,” I tell him firmly. “The most important.”

Leo takes another big bite of his ice cream, the smeared purple now drips down his chin. “Can we go to Aunt Lydia’s tonight?”

The question catches me mid-bite. I lower my spoon, carefully considering how to explain. “Not tonight, buddy. I’m actually going to Zeke’s club with the girls.”

His face falls immediately, and my heart clenches. “But we haven’t gone to Aunt Lydia’s in a long time. I miss playing games with Harper and Nora and Elise while you have dinner.”

“I know.” I reach across the table to wipe a spot of ice cream from his cheek. “But tonight’s different. The club isn’t really a place for kids.”

“Is it because of the bad people?” His blue eyes fix on mine with that uncanny perceptiveness that sometimes takes my breath away. “I heard Uncle Zeke and Uncle Seb talking about them.”

My stomach twists. What exactly has he overheard? “What do you mean, sweetie?”

He shrugs, poking at his ice cream with his spoon. “Just stuff about keeping us safe. That’s why we live with him now, right? Why you got married?”

“That’s part of it.” I try to keep my voice even, though my hands want to shake. “But you don’t need to worry about any of that. That’s grown-up stuff.”

“I’m not a baby,” he mutters, shoulders slumping. “I know things are different now.”

He’s lost so much already—his parents, his home, his sense of normalcy. And here I am, taking away one more familiar comfort.

“You’re right, you’re not a baby.” I reach for his hand. “And I promise we’ll get back to our dinner tradition soon. I miss them too.”

He nods, but I can still see the disappointment in the downturn of his mouth, the way his spoon just pushes the melting ice cream around instead of eating it. I hate this—hate that I can’t give him the simple, stable life he deserves. That my choices, my job, my complicated relationship with Zeke all ripple out to affect him too.

“Hey.” I lean forward, tapping his spoon with mine to get his attention. “What if we did something special when we get home, just you and me, before I go out?”

He glances up, a flicker of interest crossing his face. “Like what?”