“Somethin’ like that.”
I open the door past the bathroom. “My office. Didn’t want ranch books stacked in the kitchen anymore.”
There are two desks—mine and a smaller one made in the same design for Evie. She colors here while I work on weekends.
She doesn’t speak, just looks—takes it all in. I see her throat working, like she’s swallowing down a tide of memories and fears.
“I wanted you to see,” I murmur. “There’s no trace of him here.”
Her eyes glisten as she turns to me. “It doesn’t feel the same anymore.”
“And…is that a good thing?”
She nods. “Yes, Cade. That’s a very good thing.”
I come closer, stand behind her, lean in, and brush my lips against her ear.
“Dove, what does it feel like now?”
“Like…you. Evie. Your family.”
I want to say our family, but I know it’s too soon. She’s not going to accept that the past ten years didn’t happen, that I didn’t abandon her, that I didn’t protect her from my own brother.
“I think of you as family.”
She tilts her head, resting it on my shoulder as she watches the darkness beyond the window in my office.
“And how will you feel when I call that journalist and tell her everything?”
“I hope it will give you peace. I hope and wish and pray that it will give you justice.”
For a long moment, the office is silent except for the hum of my computer. Then she pulls out her phone, hands shaking but only a little.
“I’ll call her now,” she says.
“Okay.” I move to stand beside her, close enough that my shoulder brushes hers.
When the journalist answers, Sarah’s voice wavers, but she pushes through, setting up a meeting in New York. I keep my hand on the small of her back the whole time, silently letting her know she’s not alone.
When she hangs up, she exhales like she’s been holding her breath for a decade.
“Done.”
I give her a half-smile. “Then we’ll go together. Evie, too. We’ll make a trip of it. I’ve got friends in Brooklyn who’ve been itchin’ to see her. Folks who’ll spoil her rotten and give her more candy than is good for her.”
Her head snaps toward me, eyes wide. “You’d bring her? To New York? With me?”
“Why not?” I grin faintly. “She deserves a little adventure. And you deserve not to face this alone.”
Sarah stares at me like I’ve offered her the moon. She trembles as she turns and rests a hand on my heart. I cover it with mine. Her skin is warm, her pulse racingunder my thumb; my heart beats against her palm. She doesn’t pull away.
“Cade….” Her voice is a whisper, uncertain, but not unwilling.
I lean in, slowly giving her every chance to stop me.
The air between us crackles, charged with ten years of what-ifs and never-weres. My gaze drops to her mouth, and hers flicks to mine.
Then—
