She watched him stare at the phone for another ring, then saw something shift in his expression. Without a word, he closed his eyes and bowed his head slightly. His lips moved in what she recognized now as silent prayer—quick, maybe ten seconds, but focused. Like he was centering himself, asking for guidance.
The gesture was so natural, so unpretentious, that something twisted in Izzy's chest. When was the last time she'd prayed? Really prayed, not just the desperate "please don't let me die" variety?
Cory opened his eyes and answered. "Rachel? What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong," a warm female voice replied as Cory switched to speaker. "I'm reviewing the custody filing you sent. Figured you'd be awake."
"I'm with Izzy," he said, glancing at her. "Okay if I put you on speaker?”
"Of course.”
He fumbled with his phone for a second before a younger, very pretty and very feminine version of Cory smiled at her. “Hi, Izzy. I'm Rachel, the sister who keeps Cory humble."
"Hi," Izzy managed, thrown by the easy warmth.
"So, I've gone through Andrew's filing. It's mostly smoke and mirrors. Lots of accusations without substance. But judgessometimes give fathers the benefit of the doubt, especially if the mother appears unstable."
"I'm not unstable," Izzy said automatically.
"I know that. But on paper? Suspended license, federal investigation, living with a man who isn't family?—"
"That's protective custody."
"I know," Rachel soothed. "But opposing counsel will twist everything. We need character witnesses. Lots of them. People who can testify to your stability, your parenting, your community ties."
Cory was already making notes. "Pastor Dan would testify. The whole church would."
"Good. What about her employer?"
"My team's in Alaska," Izzy said. "But they'll be back in a few days. Admiral Knight and our second team, too."
"Did you say, ‘Admiral?’ That’s so perfect. Military folks carry weight with judges." Rachel paused. "Cory mentioned your mother is with your daughter?"
"Hidden. Safe." The words came out tight.
"Smart. Document everything. Every threat, every interaction with Andrew. Build a paper trail showing you're protecting her, not hiding her."
They talked for another twenty minutes, Rachel outlining strategy with the same precision Cory brought to crime scenes. Genetics, apparently. When she finally hung up with promises to file responses tomorrow, Izzy felt something she hadn't in days: hope.
"Your sister's doing this as a favor to you," she said quietly.
Cory looked up from his notes. "Of course. Family helps family."
The simple statement hit her unexpectedly. He considered her family. Her and Chantal both. Somewhere between that first antagonistic breakfast and tonight, they'd become his to protect.
"Thank you," she managed around the lump in her throat. Again.
"For what?"
"For..." She gestured helplessly. "All of it. Rachel. The prayer. Breaking rules. Everything."
He ducked his head, apparently fascinated by his notepad. "Anyone would?—"
"No." She cut him off. "They wouldn't. You're a good man, Cory Fraser."
The words hung between them, too heavy for the late hour and their exhaustion. She stood abruptly, needing distance before she said something even more revealing.
"We should sleep. Actually sleep this time."
