Chapter 158 She Fooled Me At First
Chapter 158 She Fooled Me At First
“You were right.”
For a moment, Ashley said nothing. Then she smiled.
It wasn't the careful smile she'd worn when Amy first entered the visitation room on Christmas, when Ashley hadn't yet known whether her sister had come to condemn her or save her. There was no uncertainty now. This was satisfaction, pure and immediate, and Amy knew that expression well.
She had seen it when they were children and Ashley convinced someone else to take the blame for something she'd done. She had seen it as teenagers when Ashley could twist an argument so completely that the person she'd hurt somehow ended up apologizing to her.
Ashley didn't simply enjoy being right. She needed vindication.
Amy leaned closer to the glass and tightened her fingers around the receiver.
“Tell me everything.”
Ashley settled comfortably into her chair. “I told you Amelia wasn't what everybody thinks.”
Amy forced herself to remember James's instructions. She wasn't supposed to chase a confession or lead Ashley toward an answer. Her job was to give her sister enough room to explain why she believed she was right.
“I'll admit she fooled me at first,” Amy said.
Ashley's smile thinned. “How?”
“She was nice. She talked to me, introduced me to people. Her friends were funny. She acted normal.”
“Of course she did.”
Amy shrugged. “I started wondering if maybe you'd exaggerated some things.”
Ashley's expression immediately hardened.
Amy waited a beat before continuing. “Then Jason showed up.”
The reaction was tiny, but Amy had spent a lifetime reading Ashley's face.
“Jason?” Ashley asked.
“Don't.”
“What?”
“Don't do that with me. He was there.”
Ashley glanced toward the correctional officer stationed beyond the visitation area before returning her attention to Amy.
“You sent me into that gallery blind,” Amy continued.
“I didn't send Jason to you.”
Amy caught the distinction immediately.
Not I didn't send Jason.
I didn't send Jason to you.
She allowed irritation to enter her expression. “Then what the hell was he doing there?”
“I don't know.”
“Bullshit. He recognized me, Ashley. He said my name in front of everybody.”
Ashley leaned closer. “What happened?”
Amy almost smiled.
There it was.
Ashley didn't know.
The public story surrounding Lila's gallery had given her nothing useful. As far as anyone outside the investigation knew, the opening had been evacuated because of a suspected utility problem. Ashley knew Jason had gone there, but she had no way of knowing what had happened after the gallery was cleared unless someone told her.
Amy wasn't going to.
“How much do you know?”
Ashley frowned. “I heard the opening was evacuated.”
“And?”
“And what?”
Amy studied her. “That's all you heard?”
“What happened?”
Rather than answer, Amy let anger enter her voice. “He stabbed somebody.”
Ashley's face remained remarkably calm. “Who?”
“Amelia's security guy.”
Something flickered across Ashley's expression.
Marcus.
She knew exactly who Amy meant.
“He wasn't supposed to interfere.”
Amy's entire body wanted to freeze.
She didn't let it.
“How the hell was he not supposed to interfere? It's literally his job.”
Ashley realized what she'd said and immediately tried to retreat. “I mean, if Jason was trying to talk to Amelia or whatever he was doing, security shouldn't have escalated it.”
“Talk to her?” Amy stared at her. “He had a gun.”
Ashley went silent.
Amy leaned closer. “He put it against her stomach.”
That landed, though not with the horror Amy had hoped to see.
Ashley looked irritated.
“She's pregnant, Ashley.”
“I know that.”
“He put a gun against your pregnant sister-in-law's stomach.”
“She's not my sister-in-law.”
Amy stared at her. “That is what you took from that sentence?”
Ashley folded one arm across herself. “I didn't tell Jason to put a gun on anybody.”
“Then what did you tell him?”
“I didn't say I told him anything.”
“Come on. You sent me there. Jason somehow appears at the exact same gallery dressed like a fucking waiter, attacks her security and grabs Amelia. You told me there were things you couldn't say in here because people were listening.”
Ashley looked toward the officer again.
Amy lowered her voice. “You made me walk into that place without knowing what the hell was happening.”
“I was protecting you.”
Amy nearly broke character.
Instead, she laughed. “From what?”
“Knowing too much.”
The words settled between them.
Amy didn't rush to fill the silence. She watched realization cross Ashley's face a second too late.
“Wow.”
“I didn't mean—”
“No. I understand exactly what you meant.”
“Amy.”
“Was Jason supposed to take her?”
Ashley said nothing.
Amy sat back as though the answer had stunned her. In reality, her pulse was thundering.
“Jesus Christ.”
“She wasn't supposed to make it difficult.”
Amy stared at her. “What does that mean?”
“It means Amelia always makes everything more complicated than it needs to be.”
“You just said she wasn't supposed to make it difficult.”
Ashley exhaled impatiently. “Jason was supposed to get her away from everybody so she and I could finally deal with this without Bryson and his fucking security team controlling everything.”
“Get her away where?”
“I don't know.”
“You don't know?”
“That was Jason's problem.”
Amy felt cold. “Did you tell him to hurt her?”
“No.”
The answer came quickly.
“I told you on Christmas that I didn't want anybody hurt.”
“You also told me you didn't have anything to do with Elysa.”
Ashley went still.
Amy hadn't intended to bring up Elysa yet, but the name had escaped before she could stop it. Rather than push, she shook her head.
“Never mind.”
Ashley watched her carefully. “What about Elysa?”
“Nothing.”
“You brought her up.”
“Because I'm pissed.”
“What did they tell you?”
Amy looked at her. “Who?”
“About Elysa.”
“Nobody told me anything.”
“Then why did you say her name?”
“Because this feels familiar.”
Ashley's eyes narrowed.
Amy gestured between them. “Some woman is the problem. You're the victim. Somebody else has to handle it. Then everything goes too far and suddenly you had nothing to do with it.”
“That isn't what happened with Elysa.”
Amy shrugged. “Okay.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means okay.”
“No. You're doing that thing where you say okay when you don't believe me.”
Amy nearly smiled. Her sister knew her too.
“I don't know what I believe anymore.”
Ashley leaned toward the glass. “I told you what happened.”
“You told me Elysa left.”
“She did.”
“How do you know?”
Ashley hesitated.
Every nerve in Amy's body sharpened.
“How do you know, Ashley?”
“Because she wanted to.”
“That isn't an answer.”
“She was scared.”
“Of you?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
“Tommy. Everything. Her life.”
Amy stared at her. “She got the restraining order against you.”
“Because Tommy made her.”
Amy frowned. “Tommy made Elysa get a restraining order against you?”
“He wanted everything to stop.”
“What everything?”
“Her calling me. Me calling him. Everybody watching everybody. It was fucking exhausting.”
Amy went quiet.
That wasn't the version Ashley had told years ago, and from the tightening of her expression, Ashley knew it.
“I thought you said Elysa was the one obsessed with you.”
“She was.”
“But Tommy made her get the restraining order?”
“You weren't there for everything.”
“No,” Amy said calmly. “I wasn't.”
Then she let it go.
Pushing harder would only make Ashley defensive, and Amy didn't need a complete confession to Elysa's murder today. The district attorney already had enough to charge her.
“So what was Jason supposed to do after he got Amelia out?”
Ashley exhaled. “I don't know exactly.”
“You just said he was supposed to get her away.”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“I left that to him.”
“Why?”
“Because I can't exactly coordinate a fucking kidnapping from jail, Amy.”
The silence was immediate.
Ashley froze.
Amy's heart slammed against her ribs, but she kept her expression blank.
There it was.
Not a perfectly packaged confession, but Ashley had supplied the word herself.
“That isn't what I meant,” Ashley said quickly.
“Then what did you mean?”
“I meant that's what you're making it sound like.”
“I didn't call it kidnapping.”
“Yes, you did.”
“No.”
Ashley stared at her.
Amy held her gaze. “You did.”
For the first time, genuine uncertainty crossed Ashley's face.
“No, Ashley. You did.”
Ashley looked away.
Amy allowed the silence to stretch before asking, “Did you know he had a knife?”
“No.”
“A gun?”
“No.”
“Did you tell him Marcus would be there?”
Ashley hesitated. “I told him Amelia has security.”
“What else?”
“Nothing.”
“Did you give him Marcus's name?”
“No.”
“Pictures?”
“No.”
“Information about the gallery?”
“It was a public opening.”
“Not the staff areas.”
Ashley said nothing.
Amy watched her carefully. “How did he know where the bathrooms were? How did he know where Amelia would be? How did he get inside dressed as staff?”
“I don't know.”
“You know a lot of things you don't know.”
“Maybe he planned it.”
“With what information?”
Ashley snapped. “I gave him what he needed.”
Amy stopped.
Neither woman spoke for several seconds.
“What did he need?”
Ashley's face closed. “I'm done talking about Jason.”
Amy nodded. “Okay.”
Suspicion immediately entered Ashley's expression. “Okay?”
“You don't want to tell me, don't.”
“You're mad.”
“Obviously.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“Stop saying that. You sent me there to get information while Jason was apparently planning to take Amelia. What if he'd shot me?”
“He wouldn't.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I told him you might be there.”
Amy's breath caught.
“You told Jason I was coming?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
Ashley stopped.
Amy leaned closer. “When, Ashley?”
“I got word to him.”
“How?”
“That doesn't matter.”
“It matters to me.”
“I said it doesn't matter.”
“Is there somebody else?”
Ashley went silent.
Amy could feel her pulse in her throat.
“Is there?”
“No.”
“How did you get word to Jason from in here?”
Ashley looked away. “I handled it.”
“Through who?”
“I said I handled it.”
Amy understood enough.
There was a conduit. That didn't mean another attacker existed, but somebody outside the correctional facility had carried information between Ashley and Jason.
“Is Amelia still in danger?”
Ashley's head snapped toward her. “Why do you care?”
The question stunned Amy.
“What?”
“You said you believed me.”
“I said you were right. I'm asking whether there's another lunatic walking around with a gun.”
“Jason isn't a lunatic.”
“He stabbed Marcus.”
“Because Marcus got in his way.”
Amy went still.
Ashley rolled her eyes. “You're acting like Jason walked in there planning to stab him.”
“Didn't he?”
“No. Marcus wasn't the target.”
The word settled heavily between them.
“Who was?”
Ashley looked at her for a long moment before a faint smile touched her mouth.
“You know who.”
Amy felt sick.
“Amelia?”
Ashley didn't answer.
She didn't have to.
Amy looked down, forcing herself to remember why she was there. She needed to know whether Ashley still had the ability to reach someone outside these walls and whether Jason's failure had ended the immediate threat.
“What happens now?”
Ashley frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Jason failed.”
Her jaw tightened.
“So what happens now?”
“Nothing.”
“You expect me to believe you're suddenly done?”
Ashley stared at her.
Amy softened her voice. “I'm your sister. You can tell me.”
That worked the way it always had.
Ashley glanced toward the officer before looking back at Amy. “I don't need Jason.”
A chill moved through her.
“Why?”
“Because Amelia's making mistakes.”
“What mistakes?”
“She's comfortable. She thinks because I'm in here, she's won.”
Ashley smiled.
“She announced the baby. She announced the wedding. Lila posts. Claire posts. Amelia posts. Everybody around that woman puts their entire fucking lives online and then acts shocked when people know things.”
Amy's pulse quickened.
“What do you know about the wedding?”
“Enough.”
“Like what?”
Ashley leaned closer. “Enough to know she's marrying him January twelfth.”
Amy kept her expression neutral, although her stomach tightened.
“How do you know that?”
“It's not a state secret, Amy. People talk too much.”
“Did Jason know?”
Ashley frowned. “Why does that matter?”
“Because you just told me you got information to him from inside this place. I'm trying to figure out who knows what.”
“I already told you there isn't another Jason.”
Amy caught the wording.
Not necessarily another person.
But not another Jason.
She decided not to push.
“You know what? Forget Amelia.”
Ashley frowned.
“I'm serious. I came because you asked me to. I saw her, talked to her and figured out some of what you told me was bullshit and some wasn't. Jason nearly got me arrested just for being in the same building. I'm done with Amelia.”
Ashley studied her. “What about Bryson?”
There it was.
Always Bryson.
“What about him?”
“You talked to him?”
“Barely.”
“Did he recognize you?”
The question was quiet.
Not Did you tell him?
Did he recognize you?
Years collapsed into a hotel bar, red hair and Bryson smiling at Amy while Ashley watched.
“No.”
Something in Ashley relaxed.
“He still doesn't know?”
Amy shook her head. “No.”
“Good.”
The word nearly broke her.
“Why good?”
“Because it doesn't matter.”
“It mattered enough for you to sleep with Asher.”
Ashley's expression hardened. “Don't start.”
“You said we were even.”
“We were.”
“How?”
Ashley sighed. “We've had this conversation.”
“No. You've had it. I've never understood it.”
“You had Bryson first.”
Amy stared at her. “Bryson walked up to me.”
“Exactly.”
“What was I supposed to do? Tell a stranger my sister had apparently been stalking him?”
“I wasn't stalking him.”
“You knew he was going to be at that hotel.”
Ashley went silent.
“You brought me there because of him.”
“I brought you because I didn't want to go alone.”
“Bullshit.”
Ashley looked away, and something finally clicked into place for Amy.
“You knew.”
“Of course I knew.”
“You knew he'd be there.”
“Yes.”
“And then he came over to me.”
Ashley looked back at her, and even after all these years, Amy could see the anger as clearly as if it had happened yesterday.
“You didn't even know who he was.”
“No.”
“And he picked you.”
There it was.
Amy stopped breathing.
Ashley laughed without humor. “You always did that.”
“Did what?”
“Walk into a room and get things without even trying.”
“You brought me into that room.”
“That isn't the point.”
“It is exactly the point.”
“No. The point is that I had been trying for months to get near him, and you sat there for twenty minutes doing absolutely nothing and he walked straight to you.”
Months.
Amy absorbed the word.
“How long had you been following Bryson?”
“I wasn't following him.”
“You just said months.”
“I said trying to meet him.”
“How?”
“I knew people.”
“Nadia?”
Ashley laughed. “Nadia came later.”
Confirmation.
“Why did you need her?”
“Because Bryson was impossible.”
“What does that mean?”
“He didn't call.”
“Because the number he had was mine.”
Ashley glared. “He could've found me.”
“How? He didn't know you existed.”
“He's Bryson fucking Hearst.”
Amy almost couldn't believe what she was hearing. “So because a man you deceived didn't use his billions to hunt down a woman he didn't know existed, you sent Nadia into his life?”
Ashley glanced toward the officer.
Amy had pushed too hard.
She softened her voice. “You told me I never understood you. Then make me understand.”
That landed.
Ashley leaned closer. “Nadia was supposed to make things easier.”
“How?”
“Information.”
“About Bryson?”
“Yes.”
“And Carl came later?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Nadia wasn't enough. Bryson barely noticed she existed outside what she did for him. If she lost that job, I lost everything she'd built.”
“So you needed another connection.”
“Yes.”
“Carl.”
“Yes.”
“And then Amelia.”
Ashley's expression chilled. “Amelia was supposed to be temporary.”
“What does that mean?”
“Carl didn't love her.”
“That isn't what I asked.”
“He was going to leave eventually.”
“For you?”
“For somebody.”
Amy slowly shook her head. “And then Bryson fell in love with her.”
Ashley said nothing.
Amy finally saw the wound beneath years of excuses.
“You couldn't stand it.”
“Don't.”
“Bryson chose her too.”
“Amy.”
“Just like he chose me.”
“Shut up.”
The pattern became painfully obvious.
“Elysa.”
Ashley froze.
“Me.”
“Amy.”
“Amelia.”
“Stop.”
“Every time a man doesn't choose you, you punish the woman he does.”
Ashley slammed the receiver against the glass.
“SHUT THE FUCK UP!”
The correctional officer immediately moved closer.
Amy raised one hand to indicate she was fine.
Ashley was breathing hard, but beneath the rage Amy saw something else beginning to form.
Suspicion.
“Why are you really here?”
Amy's blood went cold.
She could have lied.
Instead, she realized she already had what they needed. Ashley knew Jason's purpose. She had given him information, admitted using someone outside the jail to communicate with him and confirmed that Amelia—not Marcus—had been the target.
Amy looked at her sister.
“For the first time? To hear you.”
Ashley stared.
“I've spent my entire life hearing what you wanted me to hear. I wanted to know what you sounded like when I stopped making excuses for you.”
Understanding slowly crossed Ashley's face. Her gaze dropped from Amy's face toward her clothing.
“You fucking bitch.”
The officer moved closer.
Ashley stood so abruptly that her chair scraped backward.
“You're recording me.”
Amy's eyes filled.
“You came in here wearing a fucking wire?”
She didn't answer.
“You're my sister!”
That hurt more than Amy expected.
She picked up the receiver again.
“Yes, I am.”
“Then how could you do this to me?”
Amy closed her eyes for a moment.
She saw Marcus bleeding on the gallery floor, Amelia curled protectively around her stomach and Bryson running toward a loaded gun because the woman he loved was lying on the floor.
Then she thought of Elysa.
Asher.
Nadia.
Every person Ashley had turned into a justification.
“How could I?” Amy whispered. “Ashley, a man stabbed Marcus, shot Ethan and put a gun against Amelia's unborn baby because you couldn't accept that Bryson loves her.”
“I didn't tell Jason to do any of that.”
“You gave him what he needed. You said it yourself.”
Ashley stopped.
“You set me up.”
“Yes.”
The word devastated Amy more than she'd expected.
“Yes, I did. And I would do it again.”
“You're choosing her over me?”
Amy looked through the glass at the person who had entered the world minutes apart from her, her first friend and first enemy, the person whose face had once been indistinguishable from her own.
“No. I'm choosing what's right over you.”
Ashley laughed bitterly. “Same thing.”
“No. That's your problem. You think anybody who doesn't choose you must be choosing against you.”
Ashley said nothing.
“You thought Tommy choosing Elysa meant Elysa took something from you. You thought Bryson approaching me meant I took something from you. Then Bryson fell in love with Amelia, and you decided she'd stolen him too.”
“Stop saying that.”
“But none of us took him from you.”
Ashley slammed the receiver down.
The officer reached for her.
Amy spoke before he could lead Ashley away.
“I know about Elysa.”
Ashley froze.
Amy hadn't planned to say it, and James would probably be furious.
She didn't care anymore.
“The district attorney knows too.”
Ashley slowly turned.
For the first time since Amy had entered the room, she looked afraid.
Amy stood.
“They're charging you with her murder.”
The color drained from Ashley's face.
“No.”
“Elysa Brooks.”
“No.”
“Murder.”
“They don't have anything.”
Amy's breath caught.
Not I didn't kill her.
They don't have anything.
Ashley realized it too late.
“You didn't even say you didn't do it.”
“Amy.”
Her voice changed, becoming small in a way Amy hadn't heard in years.
“Amy, wait.”
The officer took Ashley's arm.
For most of their lives, that tone would have stopped Amy. She would have turned around, asked what was wrong and found some way to fix it.
This time, she placed the receiver down.
Ashley struck the glass with her palm and screamed her name.
Amy walked toward the door without looking back.
For the first time in her life, she let her sister call for her without answering.
Bryson was standing when Amy emerged from the visitation area.
James waited beside him while two investigators spoke quietly several feet away, already reviewing portions of the recording. Amy didn't need to ask whether the visit had worked. Their expressions told her enough.
James approached first. “You went off script at the end.”
“I know.”
“You told her about Elysa.”
“I know.”
“We hadn't planned to do that.”
“I know.”
He stared at her.
Amy wiped her face. “Are you going to yell at me?”
“Probably later.”
“Fair.”
One of the investigators joined them. “The reference to getting word to Jason through someone outside the facility matters. We'll work backward through calls, mail, visitation records and every authorized contact we can identify.”
“She wouldn't give me a name.”
“We heard. Jason can't tell us how she reached him now, which makes whatever communications she left behind even more important.”
Bryson had barely moved.
“January twelfth.”
Amy looked at him.
“She knew the wedding date.”
“Yes.”
James stepped in before Bryson could go further. “Knowing the date isn't evidence that another attack is planned. From what Ashley said, the information may have been available through people around the family or online.”
Bryson looked at him. “If Ashley Reynolds knows where and when I'm marrying Amelia while she's sitting inside a correctional facility, I want to know how she knows.”
“That,” James said, “we can investigate.”
Amy's stomach twisted. “I shouldn't have pushed the wedding.”
“No,” James agreed. “But we learned something useful. She has information she shouldn't necessarily have, and now we know to determine where it came from. That's different from assuming another attacker exists.”
Bryson nodded, although nothing about his expression suggested he intended to take the distinction lightly.
He looked at Amy. “Why did you tell her I chose you?”
“Because it was true.”
“I know.”
Amy looked toward the closed door. “I think I needed to understand why she hated me for it.”
“Did you?”
“Yes.” Her answer came quietly. “She never forgave me because you walked across a room and chose me when I didn't even know she wanted you.”
Bryson's expression changed.
“And she never forgave Amelia for the same thing.”
“You didn't take me from her, Amy.”
Her eyes lifted to his.
“Neither did Amelia. I was never Ashley's for either of you to take.”
Amy's eyes filled again.
“I know that now.”
There were still ugly things between them. The hotel, the deception and years of silence hadn't disappeared because Amy had worn a wire, and Bryson wasn't prepared to pretend otherwise.
When she started toward the exit, he stopped her.
“Amy.”
She turned.
“I am still angry about what you told me this morning, and I don't know what forgiveness for that looks like yet.”
Amy nodded. “I understand.”
“But what you did today mattered. Thank you.”
Her mouth trembled. “You don't have to thank me.”
“Yes, I do.” Bryson's voice remained quiet. “I can be angry with you for one thing and grateful to you for another. Both can be true.”
Amy stared at him for a moment before nodding.
Then she left.
It was after seven when Bryson returned to the hospital.
Amelia was sitting upright in bed eating something from a container Bruce had personally delivered and apparently threatened several people over. She looked up when Bryson entered.
“Well?”
He closed the door behind him and crossed the room.
Amelia set the container aside. “That face concerns me.”
Bryson sat beside her and took her hand.
“Ashley confirmed that Jason was supposed to get you away from everybody. She used the word kidnapping before Amy did, and she admitted she gave him information he needed.”
Amelia went still.
“She said Marcus wasn't the target.”
“I was.”
“Yes.”
Her hand moved instinctively toward her abdomen, and Bryson covered it with his own.
“She also admitted she got word to Jason from inside the correctional facility through someone else. She wouldn't identify the person, so investigators are tracing her communications, visitors and mail.”
“Do they think that person was involved?”
“We don't know. Right now, they may have been nothing more than a messenger. James doesn't want us assuming there's another attacker without evidence.”
Amelia nodded slowly. “And the wedding?”
Bryson's jaw tightened. “Ashley knows the date.”
“How?”
“We don't know yet. She claimed people around us put too much online. James said knowing January twelfth isn't evidence she's planning another attack.”
“But you don't like that she knows.”
“No. I don't like that she knows anything about you.”
That almost made Amelia smile.
“And Elysa?”
“Amy told her the district attorney is charging her.”
“How did she react?”
“She said, ‘They don't have anything.’”
Amelia's eyes lifted. “She didn't say she didn't kill her?”
“No.”
For several seconds, Amelia said nothing.
Then she looked at him.
“Is it over?”
Bryson knew she wasn't asking whether Ashley's prosecution was finished or whether every investigator had closed a file. She meant the watching, the threats and the constant feeling that someone else's obsession was waiting around the next corner.
“Almost.”
Amelia studied him. “What does almost mean?”
“It means investigators identify whoever carried Ashley's messages and make sure that person isn't a threat. It means we close whatever holes allowed Jason into that gallery. It means the district attorney handles Ashley, and we stop allowing her to dictate our lives from inside a jail cell.”
“And then?”
Bryson lifted her hand and kissed her engagement ring.
“Then I marry you.”
Her lips curved. “That's your solution to everything lately.”
“It is an excellent solution.”
“I can't argue with that.”
“No, you cannot.”
Her smile widened, and something inside Bryson finally loosened.
For months, every quiet moment had felt borrowed. Each time they found happiness, someone seemed determined to reach into it and drag them backward. Tonight, there were still unanswered questions, but for the first time those questions felt finite. Investigators could answer them. Prosecutors could handle Ashley. Security could correct what Jason had exploited.
Bryson and Amelia didn't have to spend the rest of their lives waiting for the next disaster.
“January twelfth?” Amelia asked.
“January twelfth.”
“No postponing it because you've decided I need to be placed inside a bulletproof bubble?”
Bryson considered the question seriously. “Can the bubble fit under your wedding dress?”
“Bryson.”
“I'll ask.”
She laughed, and the sound filled the hospital room.
Bryson leaned over and kissed her slowly and carefully. When he pulled away, Amelia rested her forehead against his.
“Take me home.”
“Tomorrow.”
She groaned. “Bryson.”
“Doctor's orders.”
“I hate everybody.”
“No, you don't.”
“Currently, I do.”
He smiled and settled beside her when she leaned against him.
Outside the room, security remained posted while Marcus recovered several floors away and Ethan continued treatment for the gunshot wound to his arm. Jason was dead, but investigators were already tracing the path Ashley had used to reach him, and the district attorney was preparing to add Elysa Brooks's murder to the growing list of consequences waiting for Ashley Reynolds.
There were still things to finish, but for the first time in months, those unfinished pieces no longer felt like another storm gathering over them. They felt like cleanup after one had passed.
Amelia was beside him. Their baby was safe. Marcus had survived. Ethan would recover.
And January twelfth was waiting for them on the other side.