Frank felt his defenses rise automatically, but there was genuine concern in Isabel’s eyes. No accusation, no demand for explanation—just care.
“Tommy’s fine,” he said, deflecting slightly. “He’s fishing with Pastor John. The youth group is having some kind of competition.”
Isabel nodded but didn’t look away. “And you?”
Frank glanced out the window, gathering his thoughts. The lake stretched out before them, vast and peaceful, offering no solutions but somehow soothing anyway.
“Dave left town,” he finally said. “For now, at least.”
“That’s good.” Isabel walked toward him. “Frank, I don’t want to pry, but do you need help?”
“I don’t want to burden you with my problems,” Frank said softly.
Isabel frowned. “Is that what you think friendship is? A burden?”
The question caught him off guard. For so long, Frank had operated from a place of protection—protecting Tommy, protecting the evidence, protecting himself from further loss. Since he’d left Sterling Industries, he hadn’t talked to anyone about his life.
“Friendship isn’t a burden,” he admitted. “But this situation is complicated.”
“Life usually is.” Isabel picked up the brush and paint tray and returned to the ladder. “You know, when James and I first got married, he was working undercover. There were weeks when I didn’t know where he was or if he was safe. All I knew was that I couldn’t help him if I didn’t understand what he was facing.”
Frank watched her methodical painting, the careful way she applied the color to transform the blank wall. He just hoped she was ready for what he was about to say. “Sterling Industriesis being investigated for selling compromised technology to the Department of Defense,” he said quietly. “I was one of their lawyers.”
Isabel paused but didn’t turn. She continued painting, allowing him to continue at his own pace.
“When I discovered what they were doing, I told my manager. Sterling Industries did an internal investigation, but they said they didn’t find anything. So I contacted the FBI,” Frank said, relieved to finally tell Isabel what had happened. “Before the FBI’s investigation was complete, Sterling’s PR team started a campaign to discredit potential whistleblowers. Dave was part of that effort.”
Isabel nodded, still focused on her painting. “And now he’s found you.”
“The trial is starting in a few weeks, and they’re worried about what evidence I might have kept.” Frank moved closer to the window, scanning the lake for anything that was out of place. “Dave’s visit was meant to intimidate me, to see if I still have the documentation that proves they knew what they were doing.”
“Do you?” Isabel asked simply, finally turning to look at him.
Frank met her eyes. “I gave a copy of everything to the FBI. But after all the cover-ups and lies, I kept another copy for myself. I still don’t know who I can trust.”
There was a moment of silence between them, filled only by the gentle lap of the lake against the shore outside.
“Thank you for telling me,” Isabel said softly. “It must have been hard to keep you and Tommy safe.”
Something in Frank’s chest loosened at her words. Not judgment or fear, just acknowledgment of his struggle.
“Tommy doesn’t know the details,” Frank added. “Just that we had to move for my work. I’ve tried to protect him from all of this.”
Isabel set down her brush and approached him, her expression earnest. “You’re a good grandfather, Frank. But Sapphire Bay isn’t just a hiding place—it’s a community. People here look out for each other.”
“I’m starting to see that,” Frank admitted, thinking of how Pastor John had taken Tommy fishing without asking questions, how Mabel always saved the freshest produce for them, how Mrs. Henderson let Tommy spend hours in the bookstore without buying anything.
“I’m glad you are,” Isabel said with a gentle smile. “Because I’m not going anywhere, and neither is my concern for you and Tommy.”
The simple words made something in Frank’s world shift subtly. He hadn’t realized how much he’d needed someone to say those words—how much he’d needed Isabel to say them.
“I don’t know what’s coming next,” Frank told her honestly. “Dave’s visit suggests Sterling is getting desperate, which makes them dangerous.”
Isabel’s eyes held his. “Then we’ll face it together.”
Before Frank could say anything, a car door slammed. Kathleen was home. Isabel gave him a reassuring nod before calling out to her friend.
As Kathleen bustled in with shopping bags and exclamations about how busy it was in town, Frank felt something he hadn’t experienced in a long time: the tentative but unmistakable feeling of hope.
