“Excuse you. I went to ten different stores to find that masterpiece.”
Ryker scrubbed a hand over his face.
Inside, naturally, was black-and-white tissue paper to match the cartoon. Beneath it sat a heavy rectangular box.
“An iPhone?” I pulled it out, feeling the weight of it in my palm.
“Welcome to the land of the living,” Axel said.
“My assistant set the whole thing up for you,” Jace explained. “Your own phone number, Contacts already loaded.”
“And the best part,” Axel added, “you don’t have to hide this one up your ass at night.”
Ryker shoved him in the chest, but Axel just laughed. So did I.
I turned the phone over in my hand. Such a small thing. People carried these everywhere, never thinking twice. To me, it felt like holding a key to a world I’d been locked out of for fourteen years.
“Thank you,” I said. “This is …”
“There’s another thing.” Ryker interjected.
The men motioned toward Harper. She crossed the room, and the crowd parted for her like she belonged there. Like she’d always belonged there.
She tucked herself against my side, warm and solid, and looked down at the phone.
“When we left the prison,” she said softly, “I got Gwen’s number. It’s programmed in there.”
My daughter’s number. Right there. One tap away.
My eyes burned.
“Goddammit,” Axel groaned. “He’s going full soft! I can see it happening in real time!”
“Would you shut up?” Blake snapped.
“I’m just saying, if he keeps this up, I’m swapping that phone case for pink Hello Kitty.”
I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. Years of missing birthdays and holidays and everything that mattered. And mostly, a decade of missing everything with my daughter.
And now her number was just … there.
Harper’s hand found mine and squeezed.
“I’ve got another small gift,” Axel said, his voice shifting to something lighter. Probably sensing I was about two seconds from doing something embarrassing, like crying in front of everyone.
He handed me a smaller bag. Inside was a framed card.
AGet Out of Jail Freecard. From Monopoly.
I leveled him with my flattest stare.
“What?” He grinned. “It’s funny as shit.”
“This one’s from me.” Jace handed me a blue bag, very corporate, very on-brand for him. Inside was a clear plastic case labeledPost-Prison Reentry Kit.
I arched an eyebrow.
“My assistant put it together. Deodorant, real coffee, noise-canceling headphones in case the world gets too loud.”
