Ashton’s POV
I straighten the colouring books on the coffee table for the third time, casting a sharp, appraising look around my living room. A low hum of nerves settles in my gut, I’m not used to having a stranger in my house, let alone living under my roof and being close to my daughter.
The chime of the doorbell echoes through the house. I give one last, cursory glance around the room that I’ve been frantically tidying for the last half an hour, then stride out of the living room and down the hallway to the front door.
I tug the door open to find Luna standing a few steps back, fidgeting as she looks around at the houses that line my street. She clutches a small fraying duffel bag between her fingers, her teeth worrying her lower lip.
I check my watch automatically, fifteen minutes
