Page 81 of Her Courage

And Patrice—she was firmly, finally, in the past where she belonged.

The car ride passed in a blur. I stared out the window without really seeing the familiar Portland streets. My phone buzzed several times—texts from Lottie, probably, or Andrei checking in.

I ignored them all. Needed a few more minutes of silence before facing everything waiting at home.

When Oscar pulled into the driveway, I saw them through the front windows. Lottie pacing. Andrei standing sentinel. Colby reaching out to still her frantic movements.

They'd been worried. Of course they had.

I climbed from the car on legs that felt weak. Made it halfway up the front walk before the door flew open.

Lottie.

She took one look at my face and started crying. "Daddy K⁠—"

I caught her as she launched herself at me, burying my face in her honey-brown hair. The dam I'd been holding back finally broke.

"I did it," I choked out. "I walked away from her. From all of it."

"I know." Her arms tightened around me. "I'm so proud of you, Kaleb. So damn proud."

Andrei and Colby joined us on the front lawn, their arms wrapping around us both. Creating a cocoon of safety and love.

"Come inside," Colby murmured. "Let's get you settled."

They guided me into the house, onto the couch. Lottie crawled into my lap, her head tucked under my chin. Andrei sat beside us, his hand heavy on my shoulder. Colby disappeared into the kitchen, returning with water and something stronger.

"Bourbon?" he offered.

I shook my head. "Just water. I want to feel this. All of it."

Because that was the difference between me and Patrice. Between me and my father. I wouldn't numb the pain. Wouldn't run from it.

I'd face it head-on, with the people I loved beside me.

"She looked so small," I said finally, breaking the silence. "In that cell. Without all her designer clothes and expensive jewelry. She looked..." I struggled for the right word. "Pathetic."

"She is pathetic," Andrei said bluntly. "She always has been. The clothes and jewelry were just camouflage."

"I know." I pressed my lips to Lottie's hair. "Doesn't make it easier though."

"It's not supposed to be easy," Colby said gently. "You're grieving, Kaleb. Not for who she is, but for who you wished she could be."

Damn him for being right. Damn him for seeing straight through me like he always did.

"Tell us what happened," Lottie urged softly. "If you want to. If it helps."

So I did. I told them everything—Patrice's manipulation attempts, her screaming, her final desperate pleas. The cold finality of walking away.

They listened without interruption. Without judgment. Just... listened.

"Marshall says she's looking at twenty-five to life minimum," I finished. "Between the kidnapping, attempted poisoning, and extortion. The DA's going for the maximum."

"Good," Lottie said fiercely. "She deserves worse."

"Agreed," Andrei rumbled. "She threatened our family. She should count herself lucky she's only facing prison."

The protective fury in his voice should have scared me. Instead, it made me feel safe. Cherished.