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“You heard me,” I say, folding my arms across my chest. “I’m guessing you weren’t around for this so-called altercation, so how can you be sure what really happened?”

“Michael doesn’t have a reason to lie.”

“And you know that how?”

“Because he’s my kid, and I believe him.

Besides, it’s the only version of events we’re going to get.

It’s not our fault your son won’t speak,” she says, rolling her eyes.

“Maybe you should do a better job at home of preparing him to interact with other kids before sending him off to summer camp and then acting shocked when he causes problems.”

My jaw tightens, and I fix her with a sharp glare as a hot surge of anger burns in my chest. No one has the right to talk about my son like that, least of all someone who doesn’t know the first thing about him or what he’s been through.

Vickie fails to understand that even if Caleb chooses never to speak again, it doesn’t matter. He’s perfect exactly as he is. If that means we work with his therapist and find someone to teach both of us sign language so we can build a new way to communicate long-term, then that’s what we’ll do.

Before I can respond, Briar, who’s been silently observing until now, steps around me, leans across the desk, and points her finger at Vickie.

“Caleb might prefer not to speak, but he’s still one of the brightest and most gentle kids I’ve ever met,” she fires back, eyes narrowed. “Shame on you for putting down a child just to defend your own.”

Vickie scoffs. “Last I checked, your job is maintaining cabins, not handing out parenting advice. And you’re not Caleb’s parent, so what are you even doing here?”

I often forget how small Bluebell is—where most people know each other’s names and what they do for a living.

Briar pushes back from the desk, standing straight. “Caleb recently lost his mom, and unlike you, I know better than to shame a child for how they choose to grieve. Even after everything he’s been through, I can say with certainty he’d never shove someone unprovoked.”

My mouth falls open, captivated by the fierce way she defends him.

She’s sexy as hell, standing her ground, and the passion in her voice hits me harder than I expected.

I’m grateful I didn’t let my hesitations get in the way of hiring her as Caleb’s nanny, because she’s the best thing that could have happened to him… and to me.

Before things escalate further, Julie steps inside her office, pursing her lips as if she can sense the tension. Vickie’s eyes widen, and she quickly rises from the chair, straightening her uniform.

“Is Caleb alright?” I ask.

Julie nods. “He’s fine.” Turning to Vickie, she adds, “I just reviewed the report log and found an interesting entry. Yesterday, a camp counselor documented that Michael fell on the concrete while playing tag and ended up with a large bruise on his left knee. She also noted that his dad was informed at pickup.”

Vickie’s cheeks turn red as she glances over at Briar and me. “That’s my ex-husband for you. Never tells me a damn thing.”

Briar shoots her a cutting look as if to say I told you so.

“Guess it’s a good thing we cleared up this misunderstanding,” Vickie adds.

Misunderstanding, my ass.

The only reason she’s back-pedaling is because she’s embarrassed to admit she was wrong.

Julie clears her throat, and motions to Vickie. “Why don’t we go get Michael? We can talk more out in the hall if you have any other concerns you’d like to discuss.”

“Yeah, okay,” Vickie replies, clearly eager to leave.

I watch as she ducks out of the office, avoiding eye contact. Julie follows, casting a curious glance at me and Briar.

I let out a relieved sigh, grateful for how that turned out.

Still, part of me wants to pull Caleb out of camp, even if I know that’s not a viable solution.

He should be around other kids and learn to resolve conflict.

However, it’s hard watching him get hurt and seeing other adults rush to judge him simply because he’s different.

Briar lowers herself onto Julie’s desk, eyes shimmering with unshed tears. I move beside her and slide my arm around her.

“What’s wrong?” Her sadness hits me almost as hard as Caleb’s.

She tries brushing it off, but her voice wavers. “It hurt to see Caleb so upset, especially when he didn’t do anything wrong. How can anyone be so cruel to a kid? Vickie’s a mom. You’d think she’d have more compassion.”

I draw her into my side, wiping a stray tear away. “You have a beautiful soul, Briar Halstead. Thank you for loving my son as much as I do.”

She offers me a feeble smile. “I’d do anything for him.”

“He’s lucky to have you… We both are.”

With every kind word, selfless act, and sweet smile, she chips away at my resolve, making it harder to pretend I’m not halfway gone for her already.

As I lean in, her apple-sweet scent surrounds me, and for a fleeting moment, I allow myself to hold her close, a calm I haven’t experienced in days washing over me.

“Let’s go get Caleb, and then we’ll stop by Sweet Spur Creamery for ice cream,” I say.

“He’ll love that,” Briar replies.