They stood slowly. No cheering. No theatrics. Just three men who had seen me at my worst and stayed anyway, each offering a smile and a single nod. The kind that said everything that couldn’t be said out loud.
I had to look away before I lost it completely.
My family reached me then. Arms around me. Voices breaking. My mother pulling me down until her hands found my face the way they had when I was small and she needed to make sure I was real. I’d never seen her so happy. It absolutely wrecked me.
When they shuffled to the side, Harper launched out of her chair.
She crossed the distance between us, and then her arms were around me, her face pressed to my chest, and she was crying.
“Hey,” I murmured against her hair. “No tears.”
Her voice was muffled. “I’ll cry if I want to.”
I wrapped my shackled arms around her as best I could, breathing in the scent of her shampoo, the warmth of her body pressed against mine.
Realizing that soon, I’d get to hold her anytime I wanted.
She pulled back, eyes red-rimmed and shining. “I’m so sorry about that report. I didn’t know, Knox. Back then, I didn’t know who you really were, and I just?—”
“Stop.” I tilted my chin down, catching her gaze. “That report was honest. You documented what you saw. That’s your job.” I paused. “And back then? You were right to be afraid of me.”
“I wasn’t right about anything.”
“Harper.” I waited until she looked at me. “You saved my life. In every way that matters. Don’t apologize for it.”
Her lower lip trembled. But she nodded.
A throat cleared behind us.
I looked up to find Gwen standing a few feet away, hands twisted together, eyes uncertain.
Harper stepped back, swiping at her cheeks. “Ryker? Can we give them a minute?”
God. She always knew exactly what I needed.
Ryker nodded, moving to intercept the approaching officer. “Give them a moment. He’s not going anywhere.”
Gwen stepped closer.
For a long moment, neither of us spoke.
“Congratulations,” she finally managed.
“I have to admit, I’m surprised to see you.” I offered a gentle smile.
Gwen’s expression turned sheepish. She wiggled her head and looked down at her feet, scuffing the toe of her shoe against the ground. “After I visited you …”
Her attention flicked to my chest. To the necklace hanging around my neck. The one she’d made me when she was just a kid, all clumsy knots. The one I’d worn every single day since. Through fights and lockdowns and nights so dark, I wasn’t sure I’d see morning. That necklace never came off.
I wondered if she understood that now. If this one little piece of leather string and metal beads made her realize I hadn’t been some absentee father content to rot in here and forget her. That I’d thought about her every single day. Every. Single. Day.
She swallowed hard. “Ryker gave me your letters.”
My heart stopped. I glanced at my best friend, who gave me a sheepish, apologetic smile.
“He thought maybe if I read some of them, I’d come to the parole hearing,” she explained.
I said nothing. Couldn’t decide if I was angry or thrilled.
