Chapter 53 Protective Custody
The FBI meeting was held at a secure location, a bland conference room in a government building with no windows and guards at every entrance.
Agent Morrison sat across from them with two other agents Ariella didn’t recognize. The tension in the room was suffocating.
“Let me be blunt,” Morrison began. “The media dump was reckless. You’ve compromised our investigation, endangered witnesses, and created a circus that makes a fair trial nearly impossible.”
“We didn’t have a choice…” Aiden started.
“You absolutely had a choice. You chose vigilante justice over due process.” Morrison’s voice was hard. “And now we’re all dealing with the consequences.”
“People were dying while you built your case,” Ariella said. “We were dying. My mother was attacked. How long were we supposed to wait?”
“Until we had something that would actually stick in court. Now Winters’ lawyers will claim jury contamination, prejudicial pretrial publicity, and impossibility of a fair trial. They might get the whole case thrown out.”
The words landed like a punch.
“You’re saying we helped him,” Aiden said numbly.
“I’m saying you made everything harder.” Morrison sighed. “But what’s done is done. Now we deal with what comes next.”
He pulled out files and slid them across the table.
“These are protective custody offers. Different locations for each of you. Miss Hayes, you’d go to Sacramento. Mrs. Hayes to Denver. Mr. Frost to Seattle. Miss Lily Frost to Phoenix.”
“Separated,” Claire said. “You want to split us up.”
“It’s safest. The death threats against Winters have evolved into threats against you. People are blaming you for the mob violence. Winters’ supporters are calling for retaliation. You’re targets from both sides now.”
Ariella stared at the file with her name on it. Sacramento. Six months minimum. New identity. No contact with family or friends.
“This is prison,” she said quietly.
“This is protection.”
“From what? The mess we created?”
“From the consequences of that mess. Which includes very real people who want to hurt you.” Morrison looked at each of them. “I’m not saying this to punish you. I’m saying it because protective custody might be the only way you survive until trial.”
“What about school?” Lily asked, voice small. “I’m supposed to start high school in the fall.”
“You’d be homeschooled. Different name, different life. Just for a while.”
“How long is ‘a while’?”
“Eight months. Until the trial concludes.”
“Eight months alone in Phoenix pretending to be someone else. That’s not protection, that’s exile.”
Morrison didn’t argue.
Aiden was reading his file, face pale. “And if we refuse?”
“Then you stay here with increased security and accept the risks. But I can’t guarantee your safety. Not with the current threat level.”
“So our choices are separation or death.”
“Your choices are temporary separation or potentially permanent consequences. I know it’s not fair. But fair went out the window when you decided to wage war in the media.”
They sat in heavy silence.
Finally, Claire spoke. “Can I have a minute with my daughter? Alone?”
Morrison nodded. “Take all the time you need.”
The agents filed out, leaving Ariella and her mother in the windowless room.
“I’m not going to Sacramento,” Ariella said immediately.
“I know.”
“And you’re not going to Denver.”
“I know that too.” Claire took her hands. “But baby, maybe we should consider it. Not because the FBI says so, but because maybe…maybe we need to step back. Let the professionals handle this.”
“There are no professionals handling this! Winters is still free. Still threatening people. Still…”
“And maybe that’s not our problem to solve.” Her mother’s voice was gentle but firm. “We’ve done our part. We spoke up. We provided evidence. We made noise. Now maybe it’s time to let someone else carry the weight.”
“You want me to abandon Aiden? Just leave him to deal with this alone?”
“I want you alive. And if being alive means being apart for a few months, that’s a price I’m willing to pay.”
“Well, I’m not.”
“Ari…”
“No, Mom. Listen to me. Aiden and I…we’re in this together. From the beginning, it’s been us against everything. And I’m not running away just because it got harder.”
“This isn’t running away. This is survival.”
“Survival without him isn’t survival. It’s just existing.”
Claire’s eyes filled with tears. “You love him that much?”
“I love him that much.”
“Even if it costs you everything?”
“Especially then.”
They sat in silence. Then Claire pulled her into a fierce hug.
“You’re so much braver than I ever was,” she whispered.
“I learned from you.”
“No, baby. This is all you.”
When the agents returned, Ariella and Aiden spoke simultaneously.
“We’re staying together,” Ariella said.
“We’re not separating,” Aiden said.
Morrison looked unsurprised. “I figured you’d say that. But Mrs. Hayes? Miss Lily Frost?”
Claire looked at her daughter. “If Ari stays, I stay.”
Lily looked at Aiden. “Same. We’re family. We don’t split up.”
Morrison sighed. “Then we do this the hard way. Maximum security at the Frost residence. Armed guards twenty-four seven. No one leaves without an escort. No visitors without clearance. You basically become prisoners in your own home.”
“For how long?” Aiden asked.
“Until trial. Or until the threat level decreases. Whichever comes first.”
“So eight months minimum.”
“At least.”
They looked at each other, four people who’d become a makeshift family through crisis, now facing eight months of lockdown together.
“We can do that,” Aiden said. “Together.”
“Together,” the rest of them echoed.