Page 84 of Override

I stare at her for one long second. Then my eyes land on Callum behind her.

“…You have to hate this outfit.”

Layla grins proudly. “Pops bought it.”

Of course he did.

I laugh quietly before setting her back on her feet.

Somewhere behind her, Callum groans. “Dad’s trying to turn my kid into a disco ball out of spite.”

Layla gasps dramatically. “I am fashionable.”

“Terrifyingly so,” I tell her.

She beams like I just paid her the highest compliment imaginable.

Callum nods his head towards the back while he tells Layla to go hang out with CeCe until he is done.

She skips towards her aunt with the grace of a giraffe.

****

Callum’s office sits in the back corner of the dance studio tucked behind a door covered in glitter handprints and crooked stickers that spell out LAYLA’S ROOM even though it very clearly isn’t.

The second the door shuts behind us, the muffled sound of music and tiny tap shoes fades softer through the walls.

I drop into the chair across from his desk while Callum leans back against the edge of it, arms folded loosely across his chest.

“You look terrible,” he says.

“Good talk.”

“You sleeping?” He stares me down like he can see into my soul.

“Rarely.” I raise a shoulder.

“Hm.” That single sound tells me he’s already noticed more than I want him to.

I pull my laptop from the bag before he can keep digging.

Callum studies me for a long moment before speaking.

"You look like hell."

"I've had better days."

His eyes narrow. "What happened?"

I unzip my backpack and pull out my laptop, setting it on his desk before opening it.

The medical records are still there. Rows of them. More than I want to look at again.

Callum glances from the screen to me. "This doesn't look like financial records."

"It isn't." Quiet stretches between us. "I drove to seven urgent care clinics today."

His brow furrows. "...Why?"