"We need to clear her name." His voice sounded strange to his own ears. "Make a statement. Let people know?—"
"That's not how this works." Martinez's voice carried a warning. "We don't apologize for doing our jobs. Hannah Everett was collateral damage in a necessary operation."
Collateral damage.
Jake saw Hannah's face in Sugar & Spice. Saw the pain in her eyes. Heard her voice breaking as she'd asked him to leave her bakery.
"Necessary?" The word tasted like ash. "She trusted me. She?—"
"That was your job." Martinez cut him off. "And you did your job perfectly. The fact that when we arrested her, she used her phone call to callyouand not her lawyer just proves how good your cover was. How completely she trusted you."
He stared at Martinez, really seeing her—seeing all of it—for the first time. How many times had he stood in rooms like this, believing absolutely in the righteousness of their work? How many times had he told himself that the end justified the means, that collateral damage was just an unfortunate necessity in the pursuit of justice?
But he'd never known what being good—truly good—really meant really meant until he'd watched Hannah in her bakery. Until he'd seen how she gave loaves of bread to struggling families, how she remembered every customer's birthday, how she lived her whole life with an unwavering moral compass that had nothing to do with laws and everything to do with simple human kindness.
He'd been following the wrong north star. The law wasn't always right. The badge wasn't always just. But Hannah? Hannah's goodness was pure. Real. True.
And all at once, Jake understood. He knew why he had been feeling conflicted and he suddenly felt clarity burn through him.
For the first time in months he felt the weight lift from his shoulders. He knew exactly what he had to do. Who he had to be. What actually mattered.
Jake reached for his badge. The metal was cold as he set it on the desk. Next came his gun. His credentials.
Martinez straightened. "What are you doing?"
"My job?" His laugh was harsh. "My job was to investigate criminal activity. Not destroy innocent people's lives."
"Cooper—"
"I quit." The words felt like freedom. Like chains. Like the beginning of something he couldn't take back.
"You can't just?—"
"Watch me." He was already moving, grabbing his jacket. "Write whatever you want in the report. I'm done."
"She'll never forgive you." Martinez's voice stopped him at the door. "Badge or no badge, you're still the man who betrayed her."
Jake's hand tightened on the doorframe. "I know."
But maybe that was the point. Maybe he didn't deserve forgiveness.
Maybe all he could do now was try to make it right—even if "right" was a concept he wasn't sure he understood anymore.
He walked out without looking back, leaving his badge gleaming accusingly under the fluorescent lights. Leaving the life he'd built, the career he'd chosen, the certainties he'd once believed in.
All for a woman who would probably never trust him again.
All for Hannah.
The box wasn't veryfull. Seven months working the Everett case undercover, and all Jake had to show for it was a half-empty cardboard box and the taste of ashes in his mouth.
He moved mechanically, gathering papers, files, the few personal items he'd kept in his desk. His fingers brushed something soft—Hannah's scarf, left in his truck one night and stashed here when he'd been called in unexpectedly. The violet wool still smelled faintly of vanilla and cinnamon.
"Did you hear about the Harrisons?"
The voice carried from the conference room next door. Jake's hands stilled on the scarf.
"Michael Harrison? Yeah, lost everything. The whole family did."
