We talk quietly. About Ethan. About what was handled while I was gone. About what wasn’t. She fills in the gaps without embellishment, without protecting anyone unnecessarily.
It’s the kind of conversation that reminds me why I trust her.
When we part, I return to my office, close the door, and finally sit.
The flowers catch the light.
The calm stays with me.
I didn’t leave to escape.
I left to remember myself.
And I didn’t lose that version of me on the way back.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
AUDRA
The knock comes justafter eight.
I wasn’t expecting anyone.
I pause with my glass halfway to the counter, irritation flickering before curiosity catches up. I set it down and cross the apartment.
I look through the peephole.
Alex.
Mark.
My stomach tightens before I let myself think about why.
I open the door.
“Why are you here,” I ask.A sliver of fear enters my chest.
Alex lifts a hand. “Before you assume the worst?—”
“Is Derek okay,” I interrupt.
Mark nods once. “He’s okay. Alive.”
“Define okay,” I say, stepping aside anyway. Okay doesn't sound good with "alive" attached to it.
They come in. Not awkward. Not comfortable. Purposeful.
Something’s off.
I shut the door. “Talk.”
They exchange a look. Not a debate. Agreement.
Mark starts.
“He was in a dark place,” he says. “Before anything happened.”
I stiffen. “Define dark.”
