And she knew she couldn’t put off this conversation any longer.
Rowan couldn’t bring herself to start.
Wes nodded toward the back of the truck. “Come on.”
They settled on the tailgate, the metal cool through her clothes. Remington sniffed around along the stone railing separating them from the steep slope on the other side.
Rowan pulled her jacket tighter.
“Whenever you’re ready . . .” Wes said. “I’m listening.”
She looked out at the valley for a moment.
Dana’s words echoed in her mind.Eventually I realized the fear wasn’t protecting me. It was just keeping me stuck.
She drew in a shaky breath.
She had to tell someone what had happened. And Wes was the one person who could always hear the worst version of her and still look at her the same way afterward.
She hoped that was still true.
“I saw Vince kill Thayer, but he has evidence to frame me for the murder,” she blurted.
“What?” His eyes widened. “Why don’t you start at the beginning?”
She drew in another shaky breath, knowing she was talking faster than she should.
But then she started from the beginning, just as Wes suggested.
She told him about the argument she’d overheard. Told him about watching through the gap in the door. About the shove when Thayer hit the table.
She told him what happened. All of it.
When she finished, the valley lights blurred below her for a second before she blinked away her tears.
She hadn’t let herself cry since any of this began. She wasn’t a crier. But the reality of what she’d gone through hit her, and she couldn’t hold the moisture back.
“I’m sorry, Rowan.” Wes slipped his arm around her.
Without hesitation, she leaned into him. At once, she felt at home.
She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed this. How much she’d missed Wes.
How much she regretted ever letting him go.
She felt like she could get through anything as long as Wes was with her.
Wes was quiet a moment before saying, “Rowan, you need to go to the authorities with this.”
She swung her head back and forth. “I can’t.”
“Rowan—”
“I mean it.” She turned to face him. “Think about what I just told you. I was there. I ran. I left a piece of my jewelry at the scene.”
“That doesn’t automatically make you guilty.”
She held his gaze. “The official ruling is accidental death. There’s already a public narrative running that describes me as unstable. And Vince has everything he needs to make me look guilty. At this point, if I tell the authorities what really happened, I’m not a witness. I’m a suspect.”
