Page 124 of Late Harvest

The man hadn’t moved a muscle, only periodically answering whoever was on the other end of the line with low responses Remy couldn’t make out, his eyes fastened on the newcomer.

Everyone seemed to call out their assent at once. Another moment of levity.

“Ok,” Benny agreed, lips twitching.

Before the former model could even reach for a chair, Grayton had produced one, moving so fast, Remy blinked rapidly a few times.

“Lightning reflexes,” Benny teased, but her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Now, hand me that baby.” She held out her arms to Brinder, a breathtaking smile breaking across her face as she held the infant.

A small, unnamable sound came from Grayton, who spun to face the window, phone still to his ear.

On the table, Sebastian’s phone lit up, Melody’s name scrolling across the top. Grayton was texting rapidly. “Sir, you should get that.”

Sebastian reached for it, putting in on speaker. Melody’s brisk voice filled the room. “Bash, we’ve got a problem. And it’s about Dr. Remington.”

Remy’s vision swam for a moment, ears buzzing.

“What is it?” Bash’s jaw clenched and popped.

“One of the tabloids apparently has been doing some digging. It turns out that Dr. Remington used to be Arabella Torres. And she was involved in a murder. I need to know what the fuck skeletons your fiancée has in her closet if I’m going to manage this, Bash.”

The room was deathly silent, and Remy wondered if they could hear the frantic beating of her heart.

“I—” she began, blood draining from her head. Remy briefly closed her eyes, breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth, desperately trying to ward off a second panic attack.

“Arabella, Angel, you’re recovering from a big scare. I’m not sure what’s going on,” worry wove through Sebastian’s voice and flashed in his eyes, “but you don’t owe any explanations right now⁠—”

“Yes, she does.” Melody’s disembodied, strident tone responded.

“Melody, have a little fucking respect for my fiancé,” Sebastian growled, staring lasers into the phone. If his publicist could’ve seen him, she’d quake in her Choos.

“No—Sebastian. Really, it’s ok. I should explain…” Remy trailed off, pinching the bridge of her nose, running her fingers along Chicane’s ears to soothe her jagged nerves.

She heard beloved voices in her head. No, not in her head. In her heart.

Tasha Remington’s.

We believe in you. We’re right here with you. We always have been and we always will be. You’re my daughter, too. Maybe not biologically, but in every way that matters.

Remy’s eyes burned with hot, unshed tears.

Followed by the voice she’d loved and grieved beyond anything else.

I love you, bestie. I’m by your side. I even sent you found family. You can do this. You need to do this, Arabella.

Then, finally, her own.

Pull yourself together. Boss up. Doug can’t hurt you anymore.

Sebastian cradled her face in his hands, touching his lips to hers. “I love you, my queen. And I’m here. I’m always here.”

Her tears spilled over, and Sebastian kissed the salty trails before accepting a tissue from Nell and tenderly mopping her cheeks.

“It’s just you and me, Arabella. And when this mess is over, I’m going to hold you in my arms until you realize you’re safe and I’m never letting you go.”

She nodded mechanically, unable to examine how deep her pain would go when the flame of Sebastian’s love for her inevitably burned out.

“I mean it, Arabella,” Sebastian whispered, as if he could read her thoughts. “I love you. And nothing can change that.”