Leland stepped up next, arms crossed, one dark brow lifting. “Sugar-loaded coffee and chocolate isn’t a diet,” he stated. “You need protein and vitamin C.”
She eyed his biceps straining against his button-up and smirked. “Spoken like a man who could bench-press me twice.”
He gave her a once-over then snorted as if insulted. “Try three times.”
She laughed and hugged him, too. “Thanks for everything, Leland.”
“I don’t need thanks. I need you rested and ready to get back to work. I’ll drop a restock by your apartment,” he said. “Fruit will be the only sugar.”
They drifted a few steps away, leaving her with Rhys, who had been waiting his turn patiently.
He didn’t speak at first. Just took her hand and led her to one of the couches. “Sit. Before you fall down.”
She did, more grateful than she wanted to admit. He sat beside her, still holding her hand, his thumb resting warm and steady against her knuckles.
“How are you really holding up?” he asked, echoing Natalie’s trauma counselor.
Hugs, diet advice, comments about her sleep… She must look like hell. Lord knew she felt like it.
Gaby stared at their joined hands as she spoke. “It’s hard for me. I can’t imagine how it is for her.” She swallowed before continuing. “She’s so different. Quieter. Like she’s folded in on herself.”
Rhys nodded slowly. “Give her time. Trauma compresses people. They pull inward to survive. When she feels safe again, she’ll start to unfold. It won’t be quick, but counseling will help. Her advocate has probably mentioned it already. Dev’s pet project is women and children’s trauma centers. He has a list of licensed, highly recommended counselors for both of you, when you’re ready.”
She leaned against his shoulder with a soft sigh. “I really lucked out finding Devlin and Associates. Supportive badasses excellent at their jobs and the big brothers I never had.”
He stiffened. A tiny change, but she felt it. Maybe he didn’t like being grouped so neatly with family. Or maybe she imagined it. She was too tired to unpack that now. But, more so, relieved not to be waiting alone.
A few moments later, the door opened.
Dr. Morales stepped out first, offering Gaby a small nod. Then Natalie emerged, looking hollow but lighter, as if a tremendous weight had been lifted.
Gaby was on her feet instantly.
“It’s done,” Natalie murmured. “I’m tired. But I’m okay. What I really need is to go home.”
She didn’t correct her. This wasn’t done—not by a long shot. There would be more interviews. Possibly courtrooms. Long days and longer nights. If she could have taken all of that from her sister, she would have, without hesitation.
As they walked toward the elevators, Natalie, side by side with her counselor, speaking softly, Rhys fell into step besideGaby. His hand settled at her back—familiar, unintrusive, welcome. They still hadn’t had their “discussion,” and for once, she appreciated his restraint. Holding herself together for Natalie had wrung her out.She’d been tuned to every sigh, every quiet drift of her sister’s gaze, carrying every fear and what-if like a weight she couldn’t set down.
For now, Gaby leaned into his touch, drawing on his strength because she had little left of her own.
Chapter 26
Gaby’s second-floor walkup had never felt so small. Or so quiet.
Natalie moved through it like someone unsure where her body ended, and the world began. She barely spoke that first night, mostly picking at her food, then curled at the far end of the couch with a blanket pulled tight around her shoulders, eyes fixed on nothing in particular.
Not frightened. Just distant.
They didn’t talk about what happened. Gaby didn’t push—not yet. She made tea. Put on a mindless movie. Sat beside her sister and talked about everything except the island—her neighbor’s dog who hated the mailman, a book Natalie had loved as a kid, the beach they used to sneak off to when Gaby learned to drive.
It was enough for now.
She took time off from work she didn’t even have as a new employee. But Dev insisted, and his eyes flashed with something close to anger when she apologized.
Emily dropped by twice with chef-level comfort food, her usual warmth, and gentle humor.
Rhys didn’t come by, but he called every evening.
