“You should’ve seen his face,” Izzy added, a flicker of satisfaction in her voice. “The not knowing, getting no answers—he was livid. It was perfect.”
Caitlin’s stomach tightened. “Oh, believe me. I’ve seen that look up close and personal.”
“I know you have, Bella,” Izzy said quietly. “I know.”
“Thank you—for protecting me. Always.”
“You’d do the same. Now spill—any cute locals checking up on you?”
“Oh, Iz.” Caitlin smiled faintly. “Sheriff Burke Scott drives past almost every day. He’s tall, steady—kind of that quiet-strength type. But sometimes when he looks at me, my heart starts pounding.”
“Because he’s hot?” Izzy teased. “Maybe he looks at you because he thinks you’re cute—because you are.”
Caitlin shook her head. “No… it’s not that. It’s like he sees me. Like he knows I’m not who I say I am.”
“Cait, don’t be paranoid,” Izzy said gently. “There’s no way anyone in Sylva knows who you really are. You’ve covered every track.”
Caitlin exhaled, forcing a smile she didn’t quite feel. “I know. It’s just… old habits. Always waiting for someone to figure me out.”
“Then maybe,” Izzy said softly, “it’s time to stop waiting.”
Their laughter soon drifted back, easy and familiar, until the miles between them felt small again.
Before hanging up, Caitlin’s voice softened. “Iz, this feels right. I’m staying in Sylva. I’m going to find a job, maybe my own little cottage. For once, I want to choose the life I live.”
“I’m so proud of you,” Izzy whispered. “You’re finding your way back.”
That night, Caitlin washed her coffee mug and set it upside-down to dry, the sound of crickets rising outside. Through the small window, porch lights from neighboring campsites glowed like quiet sentinels. She thought of Grandma Rose again—the way she’d spoken of kindness as if it were a kind of courage.
The town, with its worn porches and honest hearts, felt like a place she might finally belong. She understood now why Rose had loved it so—the people here were real.
Caitlin rinsed her mug, hands trembling ever so slightly. Through the window, a single porch light flickered, almost like a signal. She tried to let Sylva’s warm night air anchor her, but the shadow of Jason’s vow pressed closer with every heartbeat.Peace,she realized,would always have an aftertaste of fear—until the day she could finally stop looking back.
She slipped into bed, pulling the blanket to her chin, the quiet of the night folding around her. For a while, she let her thoughts drift to Izzy—the laughter, the loyalty, the fierce love that had carried her through.
Settling deeper into the stillness, feeling the coolness of the sheets, she listened to the muffled sounds of life around her—children’s laughter from a distant campsite, the low bark of a dog. She wanted to believe this safety was real, permanent. But the shadow of Jason’s promise lingered at the edge of her thoughts, turning her hope bittersweet as she curled tighter beneath the covers, the hush outside both comfort and reminder: she wasn’t free—not yet.
Chapter 15
Collision
Deputy Sara Parker
Sara Parker balanced her coffee in one hand, report folder tucked under her arm, as she waited at the counter of the busiest café in Sylva. Students crowded every table, laptops glowing, air thick with espresso and cinnamon. She’d stopped in for a cup before heading back on shift—a small slice of normal in her day.
“Deputy,” a voice said, low and playful.
She turned to find a college kid grinning—maybe twenty, baseball cap turned backward, the kind of cocky confidence that came with being young and fearless. His friends leaned in, watching with interest.
“You ever let anyone try on those handcuffs? I hear they make all-nighters a lot more fun.”
Heat crept up Sara’s neck before she could stop it. The barista nearly choked on a laugh. The kid’s grin widened, proud of himself.
Sara arched a brow, keeping her voice calm. “You wouldn’t last ten minutes in them.”
His friends hooted, one slapping him on the back, but he pressed on. “Ten minutes is all I’d need.”
Sara shook her head, biting back a smile, and took her coffee. “Finish college, hotshot. Then maybe we’ll talk.”
