CHAPTER SIXTY FIVE

CHAPTER SIXTY FIVE
Damon pulled into the central police station parking lot, gravel crunching beneath the tires. Before he could even turn off the ignition, Alexandra had already flung open the passenger door and bolted toward the station entrance.

Thomas and Adrian followed, their footsteps quick and purposeful. Each man paused long enough to give Damon a look—something weighted and unreadable that communicated volumes without a single word. Damon held their gazes steadily, his jaw set. He was here for Alexandra, and no amount of silent judgment from these men would make him back off. If they wanted him gone, they'd have to try something more direct.

Inside, the fluorescent lights of the station buzzed overhead, casting everything in harsh white light. Alexandra was already at the front desk, speaking to a tall officer with graying temples and tired eyes. Her hands gestured sharply as she spoke, her entire body taut with anxiety.

Damon moved to stand behind her, close enough that his presence would be felt. Close enough to offer support without crowding her space.

The officer's gaze shifted, landing on Damon. Recognition flickered across his features. "Mr. Hartley." He extended his hand across the desk, his tone professional.

Damon accepted the handshake, his eyes dropping briefly to the name tag pinned to the man's uniform. Morrison. "Officer Morrison. I'm a friend of Ms. Sterling's. I happened to be with her when your call came in."

Morrison's expression remained neutral, though his eyes tracked between Damon and Alexandra with the careful assessment of someone trained to read people. "That's fine, Mr. Hartley. I trust Ms. Sterling wouldn't bring anyone who might jeopardize her son's safety."

"I would never." Alexandra's voice came out sharp, almost brittle. Twisting her fingers nervously. "Everyone here with me can be trusted."

The words made something warm unfurl in Damon's chest. She trusted him. Despite everything—despite the pain, the walls she'd built—she trusted him. He would die before he broke that trust again.

"Alright then." Morrison stepped back from the desk, gesturing toward a hallway. "Follow me, please."

Alexandra swallowed hard, the movement visible in her throat. Her eyes darted to Thomas first, then Adrian, seeking some kind of anchor in their familiar faces. Finally, her gaze landed on Damon who offered her a small smile and mouthed the words. Everything will be fine.

She nodded, though her breathing remained shallow and rapid.

They followed Morrison down a corridor that smelled faintly of coffee and disinfectant. Their footsteps echoed against the linoleum. When Morrison opened a door and stepped aside, none of them were prepared for what they'd see.

Air left their lungs in a collective gasp.

Inside the small room, sitting on the floor with a handful of toy cars scattered around him, was James. He looked up at the sound of the door opening, his small face breaking into a wide, innocent smile.

"James." Alexandra's voice came out as barely a whisper, strangled and disbelieving. She stood frozen in the doorway, as though moving might shatter the vision in front of her. As though he might disappear like smoke if she reached for him.

"Mama!" James scrambled to his feet, abandoning his toys. He rushed toward her with boundless energy, arms outstretched.

Alexandra dropped to her knees just in time to catch him. Her arms wrapped around his small body, clutching him so tightly it must have been uncomfortable. But James didn't complain. He buried his face in her shoulder while she rocked him, great heaving sobs shaking her entire frame.

Damon remained rooted by the door, his chest constricting painfully. Thomas had one hand pressed over his mouth, his eyes suspiciously bright. Adrian stood rigid, his shoulders tense, but relief was evident in the way his posture finally relaxed.

They gave mother and son their moment. The reunion they'd all been praying for.

"James, my baby." Alexandra pulled back just enough to cup his face in her hands, her thumbs stroking his cheeks as her eyes assessed over every inch of him. "How are you? Are you hurt anywhere? Does anything hurt?" Her questions tumbled out, desperate. "Do you remember who took you? Do you remember what happened?"

James blinked at her, his expression guileless and confused. "I'm fine, Mama. I'm not hurt." His voice held that particular brightness children have when they don't understand the gravity of adult concerns. "I don't remember anything about being kidnapped or how I got here. But there was a nice lady who brought me to the police station."

Alexandra's hands stilled on his face. Her brow furrowed deeply.

"I waited for Aunty Tisha and Grandma Margaret to come pick me up from school," James continued, his tone matter-of-fact. "But they didn't come. So I went for a walk, and that's when the nice lady found me and brought me here."

The words hung in the air like a discordant note in a symphony.

Alexandra pulled back slightly, giving James another thorough once-over—checking his pupils, the color of his skin, any signs of distress or injury. But physically, he appeared unharmed.

Damon's frown deepened. Something wasn't right. Thomas and Adrian wore expressions of confusion and concern. Only Officer Morrison maintained his neutral, professional demeanor, though his eyes tracked Alexandra's examination of her son carefully.

"James, sweetheart." Adrian stepped forward, his voice gentle. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes, Uncle Adrian!" James beamed at him. "I'm just really tired. I want to go home and sleep."

The cheerfulness in his voice was jarring. He spoke like a child returning from a pleasant outing, not one who'd been missing for two days.

"Ms. Sterling." Morrison's voice cut through the tension. "Can we talk? Alone, please?"

Alexandra's jaw tightened. She pressed one more kiss to James's forehead before turning to Adrian. "Please stay with James." Her voice dropped lower, taking on an edge of steel. "Don't let him out of your sight for even a second. Something isn't right with him, and we need to figure out what it is."

"Of course." Adrian moved immediately, scooping James into his arms. The little boy wrapped his legs around Adrian's waist, resting his head on his shoulder with ease.

As Adrian carried James out of the room, Alexandra turned back to Morrison. Her spine straightened, her shoulders pulling back. Damon recognized the shift—she was going into business mode, that cool stern mask she wore when she needed to maintain control.

Damon and Thomas remained in the room, neither man making any move to leave.

"What's wrong with my son, Officer?" Alexandra's voice was steady now, but her hands betrayed her—they trembled slightly before she clasped them together. "James is exceptionally bright and smart. So how is it possible that he's talking like he doesn't remember being kidnapped from school? Like he doesn't remember two days of being missing?"

Morrison's expression remained carefully calm, but something flickered in his eyes. Concern, perhaps. Or uncertainty. "I genuinely don't have an answer for you, Ms. Sterling. What he told you just now is the exact same story he's been telling us since that woman brought him in. Word for word, actually. Like it's been rehearsed."

"Rehearsed." Alexandra repeated the word slowly. Her mind was clearly racing, trying to piece together what that might mean.

"This doesn't make any sense." Thomas stepped forward. "That boy was kidnapped two days ago. His nanny was assaulted—injected with something that put her in the hospital."

His voice grew harder, more insistent. "So why doesn't he remember any of it? Why is he acting like he just went for a walk and got lost?"

Morrison pulled out a manila folder from the desk behind him, flipping it open. "We ran a full medical check the moment he was brought in. Blood work, neurological tests, everything we could think of given the circumstances." He looked up, meeting Alexandra's eyes directly. "Everything came back normal. His brain function is fine. There's no harm, no signs of drug use. Physically, he's completely healthy."

"But mentally?" Alexandra pressed, her voice rising slightly. "What about his memory? What about the fact that he's missing two entire days of what happened to him?"

"We consulted with a child psychologist." Morrison closed the folder. "Her assessment is that it could be trauma. The mind sometimes protects itself from traumatic experiences by blocking them out. It's a coping mechanism, especially common in children."

"Or someone made him forget." Damon's voice cut through the conversation for the first time. All eyes turned to him. His expression was dark, thoughtful. "There are drugs that can cause temporary amnesia. Ways to manipulate memory."

Alexandra's face went pale. "You think someone deliberately erased his memory?"

"I think it's a possibility we should consider." Damon's gaze was steady, serious. "If someone went through the trouble of kidnapping him and then returning him unharmed, there has to be a reason. And if that reason is something they don't want him to remember or tell anyone about..."

The implication hung heavy in the air.

Morrison nodded slowly. "Mr. Hartley raises a valid point. We're not ruling anything out at this point. But for now, Ms. Sterling, my advice is to take James home. Let him rest in familiar surroundings. Sometimes being back in a safe environment can help restore memories naturally."

"And if it doesn't?" Alexandra's voice cracked slightly on the question. "What if he never remembers? What if whoever did this comes back?"

"We'll have patrol cars doing regular sweeps of your neighborhood," Morrison assured her. "And I'm assigning a detective to keep working on the case. Just because James is home doesn't mean the investigation is closed. We still need to find out who took him and why."

Alexandra nodded, but her eyes were distant. Processing. Worrying.

Thomas placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. "Let's get him home, sweetheart. That's the first step."

They filed out of the room. Adrian was waiting in the hallway, James still in his arms. The little boy had dozed off, his head resting against Adrian's shoulder, his breathing deep and even.

The sight of him sleeping so peacefully while chaos swirled around him made Alexandra's throat tighten. She reached out, smoothing his hair back from his forehead with trembling fingers.

"Let's go home, baby," she whispered, though he couldn't hear her.