“I keep replaying it,” Mia admitted. “Like I could have done something different.”
Naomi met her gaze. “Everyone here has starred in that reel. Always second-guessing, doubting yourself. It doesn’t mean you missed something. It means you survived and came out stronger on the other end.”
That did it.
Mia broke then. Big, fat tears streamed down her cheeks. Arms wrapped around her. Ranger shifted, alert but calm, pressing closer.
They stayed like that for a while. No fixing. No platitudes. Just women who knew what it meant to be watched, cornered, afraid. And who were still standing.
Later, when the food was gone and the wine had passed one more time, the conversation drifted to lighter things. Plans. Complaints. Someone laughed.
Mia leaned back against the couch cushions, exhausted and wrung out but steadied by the realization that she was being held up by more than one pair of hands.
For the first time since it happened, she didn’t feel so alone anymore.
Caleb came back late.
The cars were gone, but the lights were still on inside the cabin. He let himself in quietly.
Empty glasses sat on the counter. Dishes were stacked beside the sink. All clean.
Mia was curled up on the couch, shoes kicked off. Ranger stretched out along her legs. He cracked one eye when Caleb approached, then closed it again. Her face was blotchy; her eyes were red-rimmed.
Caleb stopped a few feet away, his heart tightening. He didn’t ask how it went.
He crouched beside her instead and brushed the hair away from her face.
She opened her eyes. “We talked,” she said hoarsely.
He nodded. That was enough.
“Cried,” she added. “A lot.”
He gave her a small smile. “Good.”
She huffed weakly. “They all had stories. Creepy ones. Worse ones.” She swallowed hard. “It wasn’t just me.”
Caleb’s jaw tightened. He knew the stories. Knew how the women overcame adversity and became stronger.
“I’m wrung out,” she admitted. “But lighter.”
He shifted onto the edge of the couch and carefully gathered her against his chest. Ranger sighed and adjusted, clearly resigned to being squished.
Caleb rested his chin against her hair. “That’s what happens when you don’t carry it alone.”
The thought lingered. His friends carried heavy things too, but they’d been trained for it. The women hadn’t been. They leaned on each other instead. And they survived.
She nodded. “Thank you for going out. For not hovering.”
“I trust you,” he said simply. “And I trust them.”
They stayed like that for a long time. Caleb was awake long after her breathing evened out. He stared into the dim room, one hand resting over her back. Ranger’s steady warmth at their feet. The house was quiet. Safe for now.
But Dana was still out there.
And Caleb knew better than to mistake silence for an ending.
CHAPTER 53
