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Miranda swallowed a lump in her throat. She needed a minute to sort through all of this, and it seemed like she was going to get it because everyone else was ignoring her silent meltdown.

“Did you have fun at daycare today?” Aili picked Rebel up, sliding her onto her hip and tickled her belly. “I bet you did with all that dancing you were doing.”

Dancing? Miranda truly had no idea what Rebel did day in and day out. Nap, eat, sleep—yes. But what else? Did they practice writing? Do crafts? She came home with drawings every once in a while, but not every week.

“Dance!” Rebel clapped her hands and giggled.

Miranda should ask. She should know, shouldn’t she? What Rebel was doing…what she was eating…how long she was napping each day, not just on the ones when it was more or less than normal. Her heart was in her throat. Tori grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the front door of the apartment.

“We’ll be back in a few hours. Give a call or text if you need something.”

Miranda walked, dumbfounded, and unable to parse exactly what she was feeling. When she was outside, the cold air biting at her cheeks, she closed her eyes and listened to Rebel’s cries through the door. She wanted nothing more than to walk back inside and take Rebel home. Put an end to what was happening.

“What’s wrong?” Tori had a hand on her elbow, holding still as their eyes locked together.

Miranda shook her head, no idea what to say. “I don’t think Aili should have to watch the kids at night too.”

“She’s my friend. And she’s more like an auntie to Harley, anyway. They haven’t had special time together in months since Aili started dating Birch.”

“Birch?” Wasn’t that Rebel’s teacher? Miranda’s stomach dropped. Miranda clenched her jaw. How could she get her point across? “I’m not comfortable leaving them.”

“They’ll be fine. Rebel knows Aili. That’s why I asked her.”

“You didn’t check with me first.” Miranda’s words cracked through the air like lightning.

Tori stilled, as if suddenly realizing the chaos she had forced Miranda to walk into. “I’m so sorry. You’re right. I didn’t. I just thought…it doesn’t matter what I thought. I didn’t check. I should have.”

Miranda crossed her arms tightly, still standing in place. She was calmer now, more rational thoughts migrating through her brain, but she still didn’t quite know where to start. “I won’t stay the night.”

“No, just dinner,” Tori said slowly. “Unless you don’t want to anymore. We can always go back in.” She pointed awkwardly toward the door.

Miranda stared at it. Rebel’s cries had already quieted, no doubt because she knew Miranda wasn’t going to walk back inside. But oh, how she wanted to.

“Have you ever had a sitter for Rebel?”

“Just my parents, on occasion.”

“So in the three months you’ve had her, she’s been with you or at daycare?”

Miranda nodded sharply.

Compassion filled Tori’s gaze, and it churned Miranda’s stomach. She didn’t want that. Taking care of Rebel was her responsibility, and she’d accepted that burden when Tierney had left this last time.

“Do you still want to go? I really don’t mind staying. This is all my fault.” Tori rambled on.

Miranda only picked up on about half of what she said. She had to get herself together. Leaving Rebel wasn’t the issue. She was fine with that. Well, it wasn’t that simple either. It wasn’t leaving Rebel with someone she trusted, it was leaving her when it should be Miranda there.

“No, let’s go,” Miranda murmured, stepping toward Tori’s car.

“Are you sure?” Tori touched her arm again to get her attention.

“Yes.” But she wasn’t. Not for the first time that day, Miranda wasn’t sure what she was doing and why she was doing it. Tori had thrown her into total and complete chaos. Which meant she was stuck either staying and making a scene or going and never doing this again. And Miranda was someone who never made a scene if she could avoid it. She’d been taught from birth that it would get her nowhere.

“Miranda.”

“Let’s go, Tori.” She had a bite to her words, and she wasn’t even sorry about it.

The drive to the restaurant was silent. Tori kept sliding her looks, and she wished she could push her discomfort from the day away, but she couldn’t. She should have canceled at the first sign of not feeling right about this. She needed to put a stop to what was happening so she could collect herself.