My heart doesn’t beat for a second.
It just… stalls.
“That’s not funny,” I say, because my brain scrambles for something solid. “Don’t do that. Don’t call me with?—”
“I’m not joking.” Banks’s voice is iron. “You know I don’t joke about him.”
I swallow so hard it hurts.
“If this is some scam?—”
“It’s not.” Another pause. “Nash… just take the call. Hear him out. For once in your life, don’t decide it’s hopeless before you’ve got the facts.”
My throat tightens like a fist.
Banks exhales. “He’ll call soon. Don’t ignore it.” Then, quieter: “And… I’m glad she’s okay.”
I can’t speak for a second.
“Me too,” I finally manage.
Banks hangs up.
I stand there staring at my phone like it’s going to explain what just happened.
Dad.
Billy Hawthorne.
The man who disappeared into black water and left a hole the size of a universe.
My brain tries to reject it on instinct. Because hope is dangerous. Because the last time I hoped hard, I got handed a coffin with no body and a lifetime of unanswered questions.
Behind me, Delaney shifts on the couch.
I turn and walk into the living room like my legs belong to someone else.
She looks up immediately, reading my face like she always does. “What’s wrong?” she asks softly.
I sit on the edge of the coffee table in front of her. Close. Grounded by the fact that she’s here. “It was Banks,” I say.
Her brows lift. “He call to give you shit?”
“Actually no.” I drag a hand through my hair. “He said someone named Dean Maddox is going to call me. From a security company in Saint Pierce.”
Delaney’s expression changes—interest and wariness mixing. “Saint Pierce?”
I nod once. “Banks told me to take the call. He said…” My voice catches, and I hate it. “He said it’s about my dad.”
Her eyes widen, and she sits up straighter, blanket sliding down her shoulders.
“Nash…” she whispers.
“I don’t know what it means,” I admit. “I don’t even know if it’s real. But Banks wasn’t… playing.”
Delaney reaches out and takes my hand, threading her fingers through mine like she’s anchoring me to the present so the past can’t drag me under.
“Okay,” she says, steady. “Then we listen.”
