Page 10 of Double Fault

If she’s uncomfortable, she doesn’t show it.

Fisher asks her another dozen questions. I only half listen.

With a sigh, she eventually turns her dark eyes my way. “Since, if I’m hired, I would be caring for your daughter, you must have some questions for me.”

A bolt of anger crashes through me.

Who is she to call me out like that?

“Maybe I’m shy,” I retort, teeth gritted.

She arches a brow. “A shy person wouldn’t stare at me like they’re considering whether to rip my clothes off or set me on fire. But sure, if you want to call it shy, we’ll go with that.”

Fisher barks out a laugh so loud it echoes off the walls. I lift my leg and stomp on his foot.

Smirking, Sabrina crosses her arms over her chest.

“I don’t have any questions. I know everything I need to.”

With a nod, she stands and extends her hand. “It was nice to meet you, Noah.”

Annoyance flares like a burst of heat in my chest. I don’t know what it is about her that’s getting under my skin.

“Likewise.”

To Fisher she says, “If you have any follow-up questions, feel free to reach out to me.”

A crashing sound in the kitchen startles us all.

“Maddie.” I’m on my feet and running in the space of a heartbeat.

My little girl stands in front of the fridge, raspberries scattered around her, along with shards of a glass bowl. Beneath one arm, she holds tight to her teddy bear. It was a present from Annie before she passed and contains a recorded message just for her, and Maddie never goes far without it.

She looks up at me, bottom lip trembling. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I know I was supposed to stay in my room, but I wanted a snack.”

“It’s fine.” I crouch and assess the mess, determining what part to sort out first. “Don’t move,” I instruct. “I don’t want you to get glass in your foot.”

Because she’s eight and thinks she knows better than her dad, she doesn’t listen.

“Ow!”

Before I have the chance to straighten again, Sabrina is effortlessly scooping Maddie up and plopping her on the counter.

“Lift your foot for me, sweetie.” She chucks her under her chin, earning a smile. “I’m Sabrina. What’s your name?”

“Maddie.” She sniffles, wiping tears with the back of her hand.

“That’s a beautiful name. How do you spell it?”

“M-A-D-D-I-E. That’s short for Madelyn. Which is M-A-D-E-L-Y-N.”

“Wow, you’re a great speller.”

My heart lodges itself in my throat. This woman is distracting my little girl to keep her from thinking about the glass in her foot.

Fisher appears with the first-aid kit from the hall closet. He passes it to Sabrina, then looks at me, one brow cocked. “You gonna pick that up?”

Bastard.

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