“Didn’t think?” I cut her off with a growl, stepping closer to the bed. My shadow swallowed her fragile frame. “You didn’t think while you painted a target on all our backs? While you let Logan tie strings around you and dance you like his little puppet?”
Her tears started again, streaking her already bruised face.
“Kaius,” Nolan said, his tone breaking. “She’s been through enough.”
“Not nearly enough,” I snarled, dragging my gaze back to Astoria. I grabbed one of the IDs, flicked it between my fingers before dropping it onto her chest like a piece of evidence. “You keep secrets from me again, and you’ll wish Alec was the one you had to deal with.”
Her sob turned into a sharp, choked breath. Watson cleared his throat, clearly itching to get out from under the tension choking the room. He gathered the rest of the IDs, his gaze flicking to me, uncertain. “She’s got heat on her from more than just Logan. Feds don’t like being made fools of. You need to decide quickly what role she plays in all of this. Otherwise, she won’t make it to the end of the week.”
Nolan’s voice broke. “She’s not going anywhere. She stays with me.”
Astoria squeezed his hand weakly, clinging to him like a lifeline. I let the silence hang, then turned my head toward Acelynn. Her eyes were wide, unreadable, searching mine for something she couldn’t name. I gave her nothing but steel.
“You’re going to help me find him, Astoria,” I said, my voice flat and final. “Logan. His boss. Anyone who touches this family again. You’re done hiding in shadows, little sister. You’re going to help me burn them out of every hole they think they can crawl into.”
Her lips parted, a protest trembling on her tongue, but I cut her off before she could breathe it into existence. “This isn’t a choice.”
The room fell silent again, broken only by the beep of the machines monitoring Astoria breaking through.
I couldn’t have pried Nolan from Astoria’s side even if I tried. His fingers were welded to hers, his lips pressed against her temple as though his touch alone might shield her from the shadows still clinging to the night. She’d finally cried herself to sleep, her chest rising in slow, steady breaths that were too fragile for my liking. I let them have their peace, for now. I tipped my chin toward the door, a silent command. Acelynn caught the cue, her eyes flicking from Astoria’s sleeping form to me. She hesitated a beat before slipping from the room, her steps falling into place behind mine.
The hallway stretched empty, its fluorescent lights buzzing low and sickly against sterile walls. Except Detective Watson was still there. He leaned against the far wall like he’d been carved into it, arms folded tight, gaze sharp on us the moment the door latched shut.
“I wanted to talk to you about something else,” he said, pushing off the wall, his voice low, gravel roughened by too much coffee and not enough sleep. “But it got a little intense in there.”
Acelynn stiffened behind me. Without thinking, her hand found mine, her fingers lacing tight like she was tethering herself to the only thing that still felt real. I squeezed back once, firm enough for her to feel it. A promise without words.
“What else can we do for you, Detective?” I asked, my voice flat as stone, monotone on purpose.
Men like Watson were always testing boundaries, trying to gauge how far they could push. I wasn’t about to give him anything but calm steel. He lifted a plain manila folder between two fingers.
“These are your new documents,” he said. “You’re officially Acelynn Thorton, if that’s who you choose to be. All you need to do is sign.”
Acelynn shuffled from behind me, her brows drawn tight. “I don’t understand.”
Watson’s jaw worked, like he wasn’t thrilled to be the messenger. “Parsons has a heart, even if he is a slimy bastard. He skipped town this morning but left this on my desk. Though I don’t think that’s the last time we will see him.”
My brow arched, waiting for more.
Watson obliged. “Doesn’t take a genius to connect the dots between the barn fire last night and your sister ending up in that hospital bed. While the body inside hasn’t been officially ID’d yet, Alec Spade’s wallet was found in the bushes outside.”
“Alec?” Acelynn’s voice trembled, soft but deliberate. She let the shock bleed into every syllable, her expression practiced innocence. “I don’t understand what this has to do with me.”
“Nothing.” Watson smirked at her like he was in on a joke only he understood. Then he shrugged one shoulder and held the folder out.
I plucked it from his grip before flipping it open. Rows of fresh identification stared back at me—licenses, credit cards, paperwork. All with Acelynn’s face. All under the name Thorton. I lifted my eyes to him.
“Just know,” Watson said evenly, “you never existed to us. No trace of you being an informant. And all charges tied to Emersyn Spade? Dropped. She’s a ghost. You are getting a clean slate.”
Acelynn edged around me, her eyes wide, lips parting like she wanted to say something, but no words came. She shut her mouth, nodding once instead, stunned silence draped across her shoulders like a too-heavy cloak. I extended my hand toward Watson. He narrowed his gaze at it for a beat, suspicion flickering. Then, reluctantly, he clasped mine, his grip firm but not unbreakable.
“Thank you,” I said, quiet but final.
He let go, straightening the lapel of his jacket like he’d just touched something unclean.
“Don’t mistake this for a free pass,” he warned. “This doesn’t change the fact that your little criminal kingdom is still under my watch now that I have taken lead of the department.”
A slow smirk curved my mouth. “Wouldn’t dream of having it any other way, Detective.”
