Page 26

Chapter

Twenty-Six

Grace

The air inside the Children’s Museum smelled like apple juice and hand sanitizer, and Grace was almost positive she’d contracted sensory processing disorder upon entering. Or had been slipped a tab of acid. The lights, colors, and cacophony were equal to an out-of-body experience.

A blur of small humans darted from exhibit to exhibit like tiny meteorites in light-up sneakers. The space was bright and sprawling—painted murals of clouds and planes stretched across high ceilings while clusters of interactive stations buzzed with activity. There was a play grocery store stocked with plastic kale and tiny shopping carts, a sensory bin filled with kinetic sand and buried dinosaurs, and an art studio where children in oversized smocks splattered paint with more passion than precision.

In the middle of everything was Hope, secured snugly in Sharla Thompson’s arms, her face tilted up with open-mouthed wonder at the waterworks installation that sent ping-pong balls swirling through tubes. Rob hovered nearby with a grin so wide it practically split his face. The man had barely let go of the baby since Jenna passed her off.

Sharla and Rob were all of their adopted parents. They loved without condition and fed the entire Snowballs team as many times a week as Sean and Emma would let them. Grace’s heart squeezed seeing their pure joy whenever they were around Hope.

And in April they were going to court.

Grace tugged her cardigan tighter around herself. She was glad she came. She needed the distraction. Not from work or the renovations. She needed this break because she was miserable .

It had been a full week since Edmonton. Seven long days of silence from André—aside from a few very professional emails about the charity game logistics. They were curt. Polite. Painfully impersonal.

Each one felt like a paper cut to the wrist. She hated how much it bothered her that he wasn’t following her into the parking lot or showing up in her driveway.

She tried to shake off her sour mood as she followed the group through the echoing halls, past the dino dig, and into the toddler zone where Kelty sat cross-legged on the floor with Curtis and Sasha’s youngest, helping her build a block tower. Suraj’s wife, Rashi, sat nearby chatting with Emma, while Penny wrangled one of their twins, convincing him not to lick the plexiglass.

Grace slipped onto a padded bench near the play mats and tried to focus on the moment—on the people around her, on the cheerful chaos, on the happy screech of a little boy who just launched himself down a foam slide.

It was a good day.

She was surrounded by good people.

But that didn’t stop her stomach from knotting every time she saw André’s name in her inbox with nothing but details about auction forms and business sponsor logos. She hated how petty she felt. She was a grown woman. She had a law degree, a property portfolio, and a five-year plan. And yet all she could think about was that night in Edmonton.

“Grace!” Sharla stepped over with Hope on her hip. “She’s so alert, isn’t she?”

Grace smiled despite herself. “She’s a genius. We all know it.”

Sharla rocked gently side to side. “I told Jenna we’d get a membership and come here every week. I don’t even care if I pull a hip chasing her around here. Rob’s already planning to build a baby gym in our basement.”

Grace glanced toward the older man, who was crouched down beside the play grocery store, grinning as a two-year-old handed him a toy potato.

He was adorable. They both were. She had to find a way to keep this family together.

Jenna wandered over, trying to catch Hope’s attention, but she was laser focused on a ribbon hanging from the ceiling.

Jenna gave a tight smile. “She loves it here.”

Sharla nodded her agreement. Jenna wrapped her arms around herself, her eyes glued to Hope. She was soaking in every second like she could stitch them into her skin.

Sharla saw it, too. She passed Hope back to Jenna with a knowing smile, then slid a hand around Jenna’s shoulders and murmured something low and warm into her ear.

Whatever it was, it made Jenna blink hard and nod.

Rob, who’d been supervising one of the twins trying to grocery-scan a plastic cucumber, came over and plucked Hope out of Jenna’s arms again. “Alright, have you told her?”

Sharla beamed at him. “I was waiting for you.”

Emma joined the group. “I feel like this is an official meeting.”

Rob puffed out his chest. “Yep. Premeditated. We’re stealing Hope Saturday evening.”

Jenna started to protest, but Rob waved a hand. “You need a break, kiddo. You and your girlfriends need to get out and relax. Dance, drink. Whatever you need. Don’t come home early. The door will be locked.”

Sharla grinned. “We’re doing all the things we used to do with our kids. Kitchen dance party, bubble bath in the sink, and I promise we’ll get her to bed on time.”

Emma shook her head. “This isn’t good. The more they see of her, the more they’re going to?—”

“When are you and Tyler giving us grandkids?” Sharla planted a hand on her hip.

“Don’t,” Emma warned, pointing at her mother. “Don’t do the thing.”

“Oh, I’m doing the thing.”

“She’s definitely doing the thing,” Kelty jumped up, brushing off her jeans. “I’ve got to run.”

Grace glanced over. Something was off there. Kelty usually lit up rooms, but since Edmonton, she’d seemed dimmer. Like someone had turned the volume down on her brightness.

Emma seemed to notice, too. She gave Kelty a searching glance, but Kelty shoved her hands in her back pockets and looked away.

“Girls night? Saturday?” Jenna asked.

Kelty nodded once. “I’ll check my schedule, but I should be good.” She gave a small wave, then bolted for the stairs.

“You in, Grace?” Jenna gave her a hopeful look.

She pulled out her phone and scrolled through the week’s calendar, pretending she didn’t have Saturday’s schedule burned into her brain. Ten o’clock, the final logistics run- through for the charity game, hosted at the Heads Up Alberta offices with NHL players present. It was supposed to be casual, but she felt like she was walking into a performance review she hadn’t studied for. André would be there.

She needed to talk with him, she knew that. But what would she say? She couldn’t wrap her own head around what she was feeling. None of it made sense. How could she want someone and at the same time feel desperate to run the other direction? It felt as if her body was being torn in two, and she just needed it to stop.

Grace lowered her phone. “Looks like I’m free.”