Dad looks uncertain for the first time in my life. Not because he doubts me, no, I see belief in his eyes, but because he knows exactly how fast an accusation like this can ruin a man.
“Keep your head up,” he says quietly.
I nod.
He tips his chin toward the door. “I told your mom I was going for a drive. She’s probably pacing holes in the rug.”
I huff out a weak breath and follow him to the door. I open it, watch him step inside his car, then close and lock it behind him.
When I finally lean back against the door, I look up at the ceiling, choking on a bitter laugh.
“What the fuck,” I whisper.
Light, hesitant footsteps sound on the stairs. I don’t look up.
How the hell am I supposed to tell Lore that I-
A tear hits my cheek.
I’m a cop. My job is to protect people. And now I’m being accused of being the same monster I hunt.
A warm hand touches the side of my face. I flinch, dropping my head instinctively.
Lore stands in front of me, her own cheeks streaked with tears.
“You heard,” I rasp.
She nods.
I swallow painfully. “I didn’t… Lore, I didn’t…”
She steps closer, her voice shaking but firm.
“I know.”
The breath leaves me in a broken exhale. My chest caves like someone punched straight through.
“I…uh…” A sob breaks free before I can force it down. “I didn’t.”
Lore reaches for me fully this time, pulling me into her arms as I fall apart.
We sink to the floor together, both of us collapsing under the weight of it all. I don’t know whose sobs echo louder, mine or hers. I don’t know whose arms tighten first. All I know is that she holds me, and I hold her back, our bodies shaking against each other.
I don’t know who’s comforting who.
We’re both victims, she’s a victim of my mistake, and I’m a victim of a lie that could ruin everything.
I don’t know how long we stay there, clinging to each other, but eventually we drag ourselves back to the bedroom. I don’t knowif either of us sleeps. It feels like we just blink and the sun comes up.
The next morning, after Harvey picks up Milo, Lore and I sit at the kitchen table with two mugs of coffee between us.
Her hands circle her cup like it can warm her through the panic.
“What happens now?” she asks softly.
I shrug, hollow. “I wait for Internal Affairs to contact me. Once they open the investigation… we go from there.”
She swallows hard. “Patrick…”
