They head toward the door, but Trent pauses, looking back at me with an expression I can't quite read.
"You coming?" Logan asks him.
"In a minute," Trent says. "I need to talk to Axel first."
Logan looks between us, then shrugs. "Alright. I'll get started on the morning checks."
When the door closes behind him, Trent sits back down across from me. The silence stretches between us, uncomfortable in a way it rarely is with my brother.
"What?" I finally ask, irritated.
"You're in love with her," he says simply.
His response catches me off guard. "I didn't say that."
"You didn't have to." He smiles, leaning back in his chair. “About time you got your head outta your ass and got serious about someone.”
"I'm not…" The denial dies on my lips. What's the point of lying to Trent? He's always seen through my bullshit. "Is it that obvious?"
"Only to someone who knows you." Trent's expression softens. "You hired a private investigator, Axel. That's not exactly casual dating behavior."
I run my hand through my hair, a nervous habit I can't seem to break. "Yeah, well. Doesn't matter how I feel. I fucked it all up."
"Maybe. Maybe not." He stands, clapping me on the shoulder. "Give her space—but don't give up. If she means that much to you, fight for her. The right way."
I nod, not trusting my voice. As Trent leaves, closing the door behind him, his words echo in my head. Fight for her. The right way.
Not by controlling. Not by hiding things. Not by making decisions for her. But by supporting her, giving her the tools she needs to fight her own battles.
For the first time since last night, I feel something like hope.
I head back to my office, unable to stop the smile spreading across my face despite everything. Trent's right. I am in love with Sadie. Completely, stupidly in love with her fierce independence, her devotion to Poppy, the rare vulnerability she shows only when she feels safe. Even her stubbornness, her walls, her defenses, I love all of it.
I just hope I haven’t burned every inch of ground between us. Because if I get another chance, I’m not letting her walk away. Not without a fight. Not without her knowing exactly whom she belongs to.
My phone buzzes in my pocket as I'm unlocking my office door. It's Reeves, the PI.
PI: Found enough to bury him. Completely.
Me: What exactly?
PI: Need to meet. Some of this shouldn't be in writing. Will send summary in secure email, but there's more.
My fingers hover over the keyboard. Whatever he found, it's big. Dangerous, maybe. The kind of information that could change everything.
Me: Hold everything. Don't send anything yet.
I sink into my chair, staring out the window at the mountains in the distance. If what Reeves found is as explosive as he's implying, I can't just dump it on Sadie right before her flight. Not when she's already terrified, already preparing for the worst.
But I can't hide it from her either. Not again.
She'll hate me if I keep more secrets. She'll never forgive me if I decide what information she can and can't have about her own life.
But dropping a bomb on her when she's about to face Elliot in court? When she's already struggling to keep it together for Poppy's sake? That feels cruel too.
I close my eyes, trying to clearly think through the tangle of worry and guilt and love clouding my judgment. What's the right call here?
The answer comes to me with sudden clarity. I need to be there. In Oregon. With her. Not to take over, not to fight her battles, but to stand beside her. To give her this information in person, where I can explain why I waited, where I can help her process whatever Reeves found.
