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Daisy’s expression shifted to concern as she watched his face darken.

“My sister, Heather,” Marion explained, her voice tight with tension. “She showed up on my doorstep this morning. She wants Charlie back.”

Alfie’s blood ran cold. “I’ll come straight over.”

“No,” Marion said quickly. “I’ll come to you. Maybe we can talk alone, while Charlie watches the butterflies.”

“Of course. Come over when you’re ready,” Alfie agreed, already on his feet. “I’ll be waiting.”

He ended the call and stood there for a moment, the morning’s joy evaporating like dew on a hot summer’s day.

“What happened?” Daisy asked, setting down her mug.

“Marion’s sister showed up,” Alfie explained, running a hand through his hair. “The one who’s supposed to be in prison. She wants Charlie back.”

Daisy’s face hardened with concern. “That poor boy. And after he’s just starting to feel safe.”

“They’re coming here,” Alfie said, pacing the small office. “Marion wants to talk somewhere Charlie won’t overhear.”

“Don’t worry,” Daisy said, rising from her chair. “I’ll care for Charlie while you two talk. We can look at the butterflies, or Charlie can help me water the plants.”

Alfie stopped pacing long enough to give Daisy a grateful look. “Thank you.”

He drained his coffee in one long gulp, his mind racing through possible scenarios for how this might play out, each one worse than the last.

His bear was already in protective mode, growling at the idea of anyone threatening their mate’s happiness—or Charlie’s.

No one is taking him from us,his bear vowed fiercely.

We need to stay calm,he told his bear.For Marion’s sake.

Alfie walked out to the front of the garden center, scanning the parking lot anxiously. Ten minutes crawled by like hours before Marion’s car finally pulled in. He watched as she helped Charlie from the backseat, her movements steady and controlled despite the strain evident on her face.

As they approached, Alfie could see she was holding it together but was obviously upset. Something he could tell Charlie had picked up on. The boy was unusually quiet as he walked by his aunt’s side.

“Alfie!” Charlie called out when he spotted him, some of his usual enthusiasm returning.

“Hey, buddy,” Alfie replied, crouching down to Charlie’s level. “Daisy is about to check on the butterflies. Want to help her?”

Charlie’s eyes lit up. “Really? Can I?”

“Of course,” Alfie said, ruffling the boy’s hair. “Daisy’s waiting for you in the café. I think Welland has some cakes he’d like you to sample, too.”

Charlie looked up at Marion, silently seeking permission.

“Go ahead,” she nodded, her voice encouraging despite the worry in her eyes. “I just need to talk to Alfie.”

They watched as Charlie raced toward the café, his momentary concern forgotten in his excitement.

When he was out of earshot, Alfie turned to Marion, taking her hands in his. “Tell me everything.”

Marion’s hands trembled in his, her fingers cold despite the warm morning. Alfie gave them a gentle squeeze, trying to infuse his strength into her.

“She was just...standing there on the porch when I opened the door,” Marion said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Like she had every right to be there.”

“Let’s go somewhere more private,” Alfie suggested, glancing toward the café where Charlie had disappeared.

He guided her toward the office, his hand resting protectively at the small of her back. She was so tense, just like that first morning they’d met. And he hated seeing her like this.