I try to answer, I do. But my breath hitches instead, and I press the heel of my hand to my eye.
“I—” My voice catches. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“Hey…” The tone in his voice changes instantly—still sharp, but quieter now. “What happened?”
I sink into the chair behind my desk, curling forward over my stomach, thinking maybe if I make myself smaller, I can hold it all in.
“They knew,” I whisper. “About us. Jenny told the board. They—I tried to explain, Ididexplain, but they’ve placed me on leave. Effective immediately. They’re calling it an inquiry, and—”
“Where are you?”
I blink. “What?”
“Whereareyou, Carina?”
“My office. Still—still packing some things—”
“I’m coming. Right now.”
“You don’t have to—”
“Already on my way, baby.”
The line goes dead, and this time, I let the tears fall.
After a few moments, I inhale deeply, stroke one palm across my bump as the baby kicks, then stand up. Clip my hair back. Unclip it. Then pack the rest of my shit into my bag and box.
A message pops through pretty quickly.
Reid:I’m here
My stomach clenches as I grab my bag and gather the last of my things.
The hallway feels longer than usual as I head for the exit. Everything in me wants to disappear through the side staff door and avoid the front altogether, but I don’t take the side door.
I walk through reception. Head held high and chin level.
That’s when I see him.
Reid strides through the main entrance like a storm breaking glass—broad shoulders, dark hoodie, jaw locked, and very muchnotwaiting in the car.
His gaze scans once, and when it lands on me, everything sharpens.
Because Jenny is at the front desk, pretending not to notice. And Moreno stands just beside her, murmuring something clinical about a rehab intake form.
When they both look up, it’s Moreno who startles first, but he schools his features with that smooth professionalism he’s known for. I see it, though—the faintest glimmer of unease.
Jenny’s fingers go still on her keyboard, and her eyes dart from Reid to me, and back again.
“Hello, Mr. Hutchi—”
Reid walks straight past her without a look. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t speak. Doesn’t raise his voice despite the furious look on his face.
He just keeps walking, right through reception and right toward me.
I straighten my shoulders as he reaches for the file box in my arms.
“I can carry it,” I say quietly, voice steadier than I feel.
