Chapter 106 Find me
A café. Small. Unremarkable. An older man sitting alone at a corner table with coffee and a book.
Every Saturday. Same table. Same time. Alone.
“He looks sad,” Ariella said.
“He looks scared,” Lily corrected. “There’s a difference. I’ve been trying to figure out why a man who architected this whole contract would be scared of the people he built it for.” She paused. “Then I found this.”
She pulled a folded newspaper clipping from the back of the sketchbook.
Three years old. Death notice.
Margaret Hale, beloved wife and mother, passed away after a long illness. She is survived by her husband Geoffrey and daughter Sophia…
“Sophia Hale,” Ariella said slowly.
“The network killed his daughter,” Lily said. “Sophia wasn’t just Victoria’s daughter. She was Geoffrey Hale’s daughter too. Victoria and Hale had a relationship years ago. Sophia was theirs.”
“He doesn’t work for the network willingly,” Aiden realized. “He’s trapped. The same way Dad was trapped. The same way…”
“The same way everyone gets trapped,” Ariella finished. “They build the cage first and then they find someone to put in it.”
The kitchen was quiet except for Claire’s knitting needles and the sound of wind against old windows.
“So we find him Saturday,” Ariella said. “At that café. And we talk to him.”
“He could warn them…”
“Or he could help us. His daughter is dead. His contract is being used for something he never intended. His freedom has been a leash for decades.” Ariella looked around the table. “He’s been sitting alone in that café every Saturday for four months since Lily started watching him. What does that look like to you?”
“Like someone waiting,” Lily said quietly. “For permission to stop.”
“Then we give him permission.”
Aiden looked at her. That look she’d learned to read in three years of marriage…the one that meant you see things I miss, the one that meant how did I get lucky enough to have you.
“You want to go alone,” he said. “Just you. So he doesn’t feel cornered.”
“Just me and Lily.”
“Absolutely not..”
“Aiden. He’s seen your face on every news broadcast for three years. He knows what Marcus looks like. But Lily’s been careful. And me…” She smiled slightly. “I’m just a baker’s daughter. Nonthreatening.”
“You’re the least nonthreatening person I know.”
“He doesn’t know that yet.”
Lily was already nodding. “She’s right. I’ve been close enough to observe him for months. He’s never made me. If we approach carefully, in public, somewhere he can’t feel trapped…”
“I don’t like this,” Aiden said.
“You don’t have to like it,” Ariella said gently. “You have to trust me.”
The word trust sat between them. Three years of building it. Three years of it being tested.
Aiden exhaled. “Saturday.”
“Saturday.”
“And Friday night we will go through every document in this room. All of us. Together. So we know everything before you walk into that café.”
“Together,” Ariella agreed.
They worked through the night.
Claire made more coffee, Then tea, Then simply sat with them, occasionally passing documents, occasionally squeezing someone’s shoulder. Present. Steady.
At 3 AM, Lily fell asleep on the couch with a document folder on her chest. Ariella covered her with a blanket.
Stood for a moment looking at her.
Seventeen. Bright. Perceptive. Lonely for so long. Finally…finally…starting to trust that she didn’t have to carry things alone.
Aiden appeared beside her.
“She reminds me of you,” he said quietly. “When we first met. The way she thinks everything is hers to handle. That she’ll be a burden if she asks for help.”
“She’s getting better.”
“Because of you.”
“Because of us.”
He pulled her close. She leaned into him, tired in the cellular way, the kind of tired that lived in bones.
“Are you scared?” he murmured into her hair.
“Yes. But different from before.” She thought about how to explain it. “Before I was scared we’d lose. Now I’m scared we’ll win and it still won’t be enough. That there’s always another layer. Another clause. Another Geoffrey Hale.”
“Maybe there is.”
“That’s not reassuring.”
“I’m not trying to reassure you. I’m trying to be honest.” He pressed his lips to her temple. “But here’s what I know. Few years ago I was a terrified eighteen-year-old who thought love was a transaction. Who thought grief was something you managed alone. Who thought family meant obligation.” His arms tightened. “And now I have you, Elena, Ethan and Lily, who’s becoming someone extraordinary. And Claire, who makes bread at 2 AM and never asks for anything in return. And even Marcus, who I’m still furious with about the undercover thing.”
Ariella almost laughed. “Still?”
“Reserving the right to be furious indefinitely.”
“Very mature.”
“My point is…” He turned to face her. “Whatever contract they have. Whatever clause. Whatever Geoffrey Hale knows or doesn’t know. We have something the network never figured out how to replicate. They can buy loyalty. They can manufacture leverage. They can build cages out of paperwork.” He touched her face. “But they can’t build this. Whatever this is. Between us.”
“A mess,” she suggested.
“A beautiful mess,” he corrected. “The kind worth fighting for.”
From the couch, without opening her eyes, Lily said: “Are you two done? Some of us are trying to sleep.”
“You’re supposed to be asleep,” Aiden told her.
“I was until you started being romantic in the middle of a crisis. It’s very distracting.”
“Go to sleep, Lily.”
“Going.” she pause. “Ari?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m glad he married you. Like…genuinely. Not contractually.” Another pause. “Okay. Sleeping now.”
Ariella stood in the dark kitchen of the Frost house, surrounded by her complicated, exhausted, extraordinary family, with six weeks until an anniversary that had been weaponized against them and a contract that wanted to claim her children.
And felt…despite everything…
Deeply, stubbornly, irrationally loved.