Still quiet.
Still fine.
Luke checked the time. He had reports waiting at the station—statements to file, a call to close out. Paperwork that wouldn’t do itself no matter how much he wanted to stay out here pretending proximity equaled protection.
Parked cars unchanged. No unfamiliar sedan. No movement in the gaps between houses. Curtains still. Doors shut. Normal.
Good.
He passed the school on his way back to the station. Lunch recess was winding down. Teachers herded kids toward the doors. Grace stood near the steps now, counting heads, attention sharp and steady. Safe. Surrounded. Exactly where she should be.
Luke exhaled, tension easing a fraction.
The station came into view a few minutes later, brick and familiar and grounding. He parked, shut off the engine, and sat there for a moment with his hands resting on the wheel.
She was okay.
She would be okay for the rest of the day.
And when the final bell rang—when the crowds thinned and the sidewalks emptied—he’d be there to walk her home.
Luke satat his desk with a half-finished report open on his screen, the cursor blinking like it was waiting for something he didn’t have.
Behind him, Mercer’s voice carried easily across the squad room.
Mercer leaned back in his chair. “Honestly, if a Hart’s mixed up in something sketchy, it’s usually because they invited it.”
A couple of chuckles followed.
“So she got spooked by some guy on her porch?” Mercer said with a laugh. “Figures. Hart paranoia runs deep.”
Luke’s fingers paused above the keyboard.
Sullivan added, “That family’s always been high-strung. You grow up around trouble long enough, you start seeing it everywhere.”
Luke stared at the screen until the words swam.
Grace Hart and danger should never be in the same sentence.
Something in Luke’s chest tightened.
He didn’t turn around.
Didn’t speak.
Didn’t even shift in his seat.
Because anything he said would raise questions.
Silence was safer.
Silence kept things clean.
Silence meant no one looked too closely at why Grace Hart’s name made his pulse kick or why the thought of her in peril scared him more than any callout ever had.
He let Mercer talk.
Let the laughter settle.
