Page 19 of Nolan

Lisa's eyes narrow. "And who exactly are you to make that decision?"

I don't respond, focusing instead on the phone. It rings once, twice, three times before Nolan picks up.

"Hey, Belle, everything okay?" His voice is cautious, like it always is now when we speak.

"Nolan, there's someone here." I turn slightly away from Lisa, lowering my voice. "Lisa is here. She's asking to see Ashlynn."

There's a beat of silence, then a sharp intake of breath. "I'll be right there. Don't let her in. Don't let her near Ashlynn."

"Okay," I whisper, relief flooding through me at his immediate response.

"I'm on my way. Fifteen minutes, tops." His voice is tight with barely controlled fury. "Stay on the phone with me if you need to."

"I think we're okay for now." I glance back at Lisa, who's watching me with thinly veiled irritation. "But please hurry."

"I will. And Annabelle?" There's a pause. "Thank you."

I end the call and face Lisa again. "Nolan's on his way. He should be here soon."

"Fine." She crosses her arms. "I'll wait."

"Would you like to wait out here?" I gesture to the porch swing. "I can bring you some water."

"I'd rather wait inside with my daughter." Her emphasis on "my" feels like a challenge. But this bitch left her, and I refuse to make this easy for her.

"I'm sorry, but until Nolan gets here, I think it's best if you wait out here." I stand my ground, though my knees feel weak.

She stares at me for a long moment, then shrugs. "Whatever." She moves to the swing and sits down, her posture rigid with annoyance.

I close the door partway, keeping an eye on her through the gap. Then I hurry back to the kitchen where Ashlynn is waiting.

"Who's that lady?" she asks again, eyes wide with curiosity.

"Just someone who needs to talk to your daddy," I tell her, unwilling to explain more until Nolan arrives. "Hey, I have an idea. Why don't we take our craft project to the backyard? It's such a nice day."

"Yeah." She claps her hands, easily distracted. "Can we have a picnic too?"

"That's a perfect idea." I quickly gather our supplies, adding some juice boxes and crackers to the mix. Anything to keep her occupied and away from the front of the house.

As I guide Ashlynn through the back door, I can't help but glance over my shoulder, half-expecting to see Lisa standing there. But the kitchen remains empty, the only sound is the humming of the fridge.

In the backyard, I spread a blanket under the maple tree and set out our craft supplies. Ashlynn immediately dives in, pressing her tiny hands into the paint I've poured onto a paper plate.

"Look, Annabelle," she giggles. "My hands are blue."

"They sure are." I smile at her, trying to keep my anxiety from showing. "Now let's make those butterflies, okay?"

As she presses her painted hands onto paper, creating perfect wing prints, I keep one eye on the back door. The minutes crawl by, each one feeling like an hour.

Finally, just as Ashlynn is adding glitter to her third butterfly, I hear the sound of a truck door slamming. Nolan is home.

"Stay right here, sweetie," I tell her. "Keep working on your butterflies. I'll be right back."

"Okay." She's too absorbed in her project to protest.

I slip back into the house, moving quickly to the front door. Through the window, I can see Nolan striding up the walkway, his face a mask of controlled rage. His hat is pulled down low over his eyes, and if it were me, I'd be running away from him. Lisa stands from the swing, arms crossed defensively.

I open the door just as he reaches the porch.

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