Chapter 4 #5
"It's fine. I'll stay in sight." I squeeze his hand. "Please."
I meet Evan at the entrance, my stomach tight, my hands not quite steady. Up close, I can see the tension in his jaw, the slight darkness under his eyes.
"Morgan," he says, his voice carefully controlled. "I appreciate you watching Charlie after hours."
"Actually, I wanted to talk to you about her." I gesture toward the playroom, visible through the glass doors. "She mentioned you had to leave the field trip early."
He nods, his expression shifting to concern. "Work emergency. The joys of being self-employed."
"That must be difficult." I keep my tone professional. "Charlie was quite upset when she realized you'd left without saying goodbye."
A flash of irritation crosses his face. "I'll make it up to her. I always do."
"I've noticed she seems more withdrawn during group activities lately, a little more sensitive than usual."
"Children have bad days." He shrugs, but his hands clench at his sides. "She's fine."
"Is she?" I keep my voice soft. "She's mentioned you've been working late. It must be difficult managing everything on your own, but she says she spends many evenings by herself."
His expression hardens. "Are you suggesting I'm neglecting my daughter?"
"Not at all. I'm concerned about her emotional well-being." I soften my voice. "She's such a bright, sensitive child. I just want to make sure she has the support she needs."
For a moment, I see vulnerability in his eyes, a flash of genuine worry that humanizes him. Then it's gone, replaced by defensiveness.
"I appreciate your concern, but Charlie is fine." He checks his watch. "If you'll excuse me, I need to collect her."
"Of course." I step aside, watching as he enters the building. "I just want what's best for her."
Inside, a huge grin breaks across Charlie's face when she sees her father. She rushes toward him, her little backpack bouncing on her shoulders. Evan picks her up, his expression softening as he looks at his daughter.
"Daddy! Ms. Morgan's friends were so nice and helped everyone on the trip!"
I watch from the doorway as Evan's face goes carefully blank. "That's great, sweetheart."
Charlie continues chattering as they gather her things, oblivious to the tension in the room. As they pass me on their way out, Charlie reaches for my hand.
"Ms. Morgan, can you come to my birthday party next week? Daddy says we're having it at the park with a big cake!"
I crouch down to her level. "I'd love to come, Charlie. Thank you for inviting me."
She throws her arms around my neck, and I hug her back, breathing in the sweet scent of children's shampoo and crayons. This little girl has no idea what's happening around her, and it breaks my heart.
"Be good for your dad, okay?" I whisper.
"I will." She pulls back, her smile bright. "Bye, Ms. Morgan!"
Trenton
As they walk toward their car, I notice Evan's hand is tight around Charlie's small one. She has to take quick steps to keep up with his long stride.
As his taillights disappear, my gut twists. He couldn't keep his eyes off Morgan, but it's Charlie's face that flashes in my mind, that bright, trusting smile already shadowed by her father's darkness.
Her expression sticks with me.
"You coming?" Matthew asks, his hand at the small of Morgan's back.
"Yeah." But I don't move yet.
It's the hug that I can't shake. The way she'd clung to Morgan, a desperate grip, like she was starving for affection. Then the other details click into place.
"Trent?" Morgan's voice pulls me from my thoughts. "Everything okay?"
I turn to them, the image sharp in my mind. "Her shoes. They were too small. And her backpack was falling apart."
Matthew's eyes narrow. "You think he's neglecting her?"
"I think there's something wrong in that house." I move toward our truck, my mind already working through the possibilities. "Beyond just the way he looks at Morgan."
Morgan slides into the passenger seat while I'm still standing, staring down the empty street where Evan's car disappeared.
"Trent," Morgan says softly. "She's not our responsibility."
I meet her eyes through the open window. "She is if no one else is looking out for her."
Matthew starts the engine from directly beside us. "We'll figure it out. But not tonight. Tonight we focus on Morgan."
I know he's right. But as we drive home, I can't shake the image of that little girl, the way she'd watched her father with wary eyes when she thought no one was looking. The way she'd clung to Morgan.
Kids know things. Even when they can't put words to it.
"I'm calling Greyson," I say as we pull into our driveway. "The club has connections with CPS."
Morgan looks at me, worry etched across her face. "You really think it's that bad?"
"I think we've seen enough to know something's wrong with him mentally." I reach for her hand. "But we'll be careful. For Charlie's sake."
Later that night, as Morgan sleeps between us, I stare at the ceiling and make a silent promise to the little girl with the too small shoes. Who is wanting her father's approval.