Fuck.
Seth let out a shaky breath. Logic told him to walk away. His allegiance was to the future, not the past. He owed the family he was committing to now his protection. He didn’t owe answers to a cold case that had been shoved in a dusty storage unit over a decade ago.
But…whatever his father had stashed could not only explain his loved ones’ deaths, but possibly end the danger for good. The investigation he and his father had tried to dissect had torn their family apart twice. The cost of all he’d lost had haunted him for years.
Could he simply ignore the chance to finally get the answers he ached for?
Wouldn’t that negate everything his father had died for? Everything Autumn and Tristan had died for?
But he owed his new and growing family as much as he owed the ones who’d died on his watch.
Fuck. Seth raked a hand through his hair. He didn’t know what to do.
Suddenly, the shower shut off. Pipes groaned. Heavenly would be back any second.
Cursing, Seth shoved the letter and key into the envelope, his heart hammering.
He had to plan…and he was out of goddamn time.
Downstairs, Seth heard the front door open and close, followed by the murmur of voices—his mother’s light laugh, Carl’s deeper rumble.
They were back—and he was holding a piece of paper that could blow up his entire life.
Seth’s hands shook as he shoved the letter into the drawer of his nightstand and closed it, but he pushed too hard. The drawer jammed in its track.
With a curse, Seth yanked on the handle. At his brute force, the lamp on top rattled. He grimaced.
Fuck. He had to calm down, get himself together.
He sucked in a breath, then let it out as he scanned the room for anything else out of place. Shit. The dresser was still askew.
Seth leapt to his feet and ate up the distance across the floor, lifting the heavy dresser back until it nestled against the wall.
When he finished, his palms were sweating. His heart hammered so hard he could feel it in his throat.
No one could see him like this, or everyone would know something was wrong. They would ask questions, and Seth didn’t have any answers.
For now, he rolled his shoulders and forced his expression into something neutral before yanking open the bedroom door.
At the top of the landing, Seth paused to listen. Mom and Carl were moving through the house, their voices clearer. He could hear the rustle of bags, the clink of dishes as he descended the stairs, his jaw already aching from clenching it.
Showtime.
He just had to get through this morning without anyone—especially his mother—suspecting something was wrong. After all, the secret his dad had left behind had been sitting in that storage unit for sixteen years. A few hours wasn’t going to change anything.
When he reached the kitchen, his mom looked up from the coffeepot, her face bright. “Seth! Good morning, sweetheart. How are you? You look…sleepy.”
“I’m fine,” he lied, crossing the room to kiss her cheek before he took two grocery bags from his stepfather’s arms. “Let me help with that.”
“Thanks.” Carl nodded as he placed a box of pastries on the counter with a wry smile. “We picked up a few extra things on the way back from the hotel this morning.”
That didn’t surprise Seth. “Of course you did.”
Grace Cooper took hostessing seriously. She refused to let her guests go hungry.
His mom tsked at them both as Seth started unpacking the bags—bagels, cream cheese, another fruit tray, croissants. He kept his hands busy, his movements controlled. Casual. Like his father’s final message wasn’t burning a hole in the nightstand two floors above them.
“Where’s everyone else?” Grace frowned.
