I don’t sayhappy birthday.Instead, I kiss the top of her head. “Get dressed, Babygirl.”
“Where are we going?”
I let the question hang a beat before answering. “Somewhere quiet.”
“Okay.”
Ten minutes later, she slides into the passenger seat without aword. The road ahead unfolds. Halfway there, she reaches over and rests her hand on my thigh.
The warehouse waits at the edge of the river—steel bones, cracked windows, rust creeping up from the foundation.
I park near the back, where the ground turns soft with river mist and gravel crunches under the tires.
Laurette steps out, scanning the place. She’s piecing something together, but the shape isn’t clear yet.
“Well, this is definitely somewhere quiet.”
I step forward, reach for the steel door, and pull it open with a groan that echoes down the length of the dark.
She hesitates at the threshold. Not a full stop—a pause—enough for me to step back and place a hand against the small of her back.
“You’re safe. I promise.”
My girl looks at me. “I know. I’m always safe with you. That’s something I never doubt.”
She steps in, and the vibe changes immediately.
Inside, everything’s ready. Plastic on the floor. A single chair under a hanging bulb that sways back and forth.
Laurette stops when she sees what’s waiting. And everything in her goes still.
He’s there, tied to the chair. Wrists bound behind him. Ankles secured. Fresh bruises tell me he struggled to free himself while I was gone.
As if…
Evan lifts his head when we enter, defiant, even now. I don’t glance his way. Instead, I wait to see Laurette’s reaction.
There’s no gasp. No step back. No flare of shock. Just a stillness that settles into her spine.
Her breath evens, and her shoulders square.
I’ve seen her this way before—in court, when the room turns hostile and she stops trying to persuade anyone. This is the same calm.
Over the past months, her words have come back to me.
I wish I could watch him die.
I wish I could be there.
Each time she spoke, I listened.
I step closer to her now and ask it plainly. No games. No theater.
“Do you want to watch?”
She doesn’t look my way when she answers. She keeps her eyes on him.
“Yes.”
