She took another deep, shuddering breath, then one more. Ever so slowly, the violent sobs subsided into occasional hiccups. She reached out and tore off a few squares of toilet paper, using them to dab at her eyes and blow her nose. The cheap paper disintegrated against her wet skin, probably leaving tiny white particles clinging to her eyelashes.
She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the door. Lily’s face materialized in her mind, so innocent and trusting. She couldn’t stop the image from morphing into the one Gantz had described that night, and a question formed that she already knew the answer to.
If she had to do it all over again, knowing what it would cost her, would she still pull the trigger?
The answer?
A thousand times, yes.
Kinsley had sworn an oath to protect and serve, and sometimes protection required sacrifice. She had forfeited her freedom, her future, perhaps her very soul, but Lily would grow up safe. Her niece would never know the fear that had been Kinsley’s constant companion since the day Gantz walked free from that courtroom.
“Butterfly?” Her father’s voice called from the living room, the childhood nickname carrying a note of concern. “Everything alright?”
Kinsley opened her eyes, and the bathroom came back into focus around her.
“Fine, Dad,” she called back, surprised by how normal her voice sounded. “Be right there.”
She pushed herself to her feet, her legs steadier now. She didn’t bother glancing at herself in the mirror as she rinsed her hands under the faucet. The cool water was refreshing against her skin, and she splashed some on her face without caring that it further ruined the makeup she’d applied earlier in hopes of staving off her father’s concern. Where she was going, appearances wouldn’t matter.
She hadn’t shot someone in the line of duty. She couldn’t technically claim self-defense, either. She’d made a calculated decision to protect someone she loved, and the law called that murder. She had no argument against the label.
She dried her hands and face on the small towel hanging next to the sink, her movements becoming more purposeful with each passing second. The breakdown was over, and the time for tears had passed. Now came acceptance, and whatever justice the system decided was appropriate. But first, she needed to confess her sins to her family.
As she emerged from the bathroom, the soft murmur of voices from the front of the house caught her attention. She recognized Shane’s tone immediately, and her chest tightened until she could barely breathe. The unexpected intrusion on what should have been her final quiet hours of freedom sent what little coffee she’d managed to drink surging against the back of her throat.
She swallowed the acidic bile and quickly crossed through the kitchen. Her father stood rigidly by the open front door, his shoulders squared in a protective stance she recognized from childhood confrontations. This wouldn’t end well unless she stepped in and let Shane walk back on their deal. It wasn’t like he owed her, and she never should have asked him to make an exception on her behalf.
“...told you, Detective Levick, my daughter is not prepared to speak with you right now,” George said, his voice carrying the measured authority that had intimidated witnesses and charmed juries for decades. “If you’re here to make an arrest, then?—”
“Dad,” Kinsley murmured as she rested a placating hand on his arm. Through the gap between her father’s body and the doorframe, she caught sight of Shane on the porch. His dark hair was disheveled, and the smudges beneath his eyes suggested that he hadn’t slept since their confrontation, either. “It’s okay. There was a chance this would happen. I’m going to need you to?—”
Her words trailed off as confusion clouded her thoughts. Shane was alone. No other detective or officer stood by his side, which was regulation when making an arrest like this.
“We need to talk,” Shane demanded, his voice tight with controlled emotion. “Now.”
George stepped more firmly between them, his back straightening to its full height.
“As both her father and her attorney, I insist on being present for any conversation. You promised her time, Detective. You agreed to let Kinsley turn herself in this evening at?—”
“I’m not here to make an arrest,” Shane replied, his jaw clenched. The corded muscles twitched, a telltale sign of restrained temper that Kinsley had come to recognize during their months together before that fateful night. “Kinsley?”
She applied gentle pressure to her father’s arm, prodding him back from the doorway.
“It’s okay, Dad,” Kinsley said quietly. “Please. Give me a moment to speak with Shane in private. I give you my word that I’ll be mindful of what I say.”
“You should have counsel present,” George murmured as he turned toward her. “You know that.”
“Please, Dad.” Kinsley attempted to give him a reassuring smile, but the gesture failed. “Give us a minute.”
George shook his head in what she knew was both disappointment and fear that one of his daughters was about to serve a life sentence. He dragged a hand over his face and turned away. She waited for him to clear the doorway before reaching for the doorknob and all but forcing Shane to step back onto the porch.
Something had changed since last night.
Something significant.
Shane was not the type of man to break his word. He was a man of integrity, trust, and loyalty, the kind of person who would rather endure personal hardship than let down those who depended on him. He also didn’t take kindly to betrayal.
She pulled the front door partially closed behind her, leaving it open just enough that her father could intervene if necessary. She didn’t doubt that he would listen in as much as he could, given the circumstances.
