Chapter 105: The Sirens faded

"The sirens faded."

The sirens faded into the distance, swallowed by the night. My father's silhouette disappeared behind the police cruiser doors, his face a mask of something I couldn't name. Shame, maybe. Or relief. Lena had vanished into the shadows, leaving only the echo of her footsteps and the weight of her words.

Beck's arm was around my shoulders, steadying me. I didn't realize I was shaking until I felt his warmth. "Come on," he said quietly. "Let's get out of here."

I couldn't move. My feet were rooted to the concrete, my eyes fixed on the spot where my father had stood. The man who had taught me to ride a bike. The man who had held me when I cried. The man who had pulled a gun on me.

"He was going to shoot me," I whispered.

"He wasn't going to."

"He pulled the trigger."

"His hand was shaking." Beck turned me to face him. "He couldn't do it. He loved you too much."

"Then why did he point it at me?"

"Because he was scared. Scared people do stupid things."

I looked up at him. His eyes were steady, his voice calm. "How do you know so much about scared people?"

"Because I used to be one."

He kissed my forehead. "Let's go home."

The drive back was silent. Beck's hand was on my knee, his thumb tracing circles on my skin. I stared out the window, watching the city lights blur past.

"Ivy."

"Yeah."

"You need to eat."

"I'm not hungry."

"You need to sleep."

"I can't."

He pulled the truck to the side of the road and killed the engine. The silence was sudden, heavy. "Talk to me."

I turned to face him. "My father was going to kill me."

"No, he wasn't."

"Then why did he pull a gun?"

"Because he was desperate." Beck took my hand. "Ivy, the man who raised you wasn't the one in that warehouse. The network turned him into someone else. Someone scared. Someone selfish."

"That doesn't make it okay."

"No. It doesn't." He squeezed my hand. "But it might help you understand."

I didn't want to understand. I wanted to forget.

We sat in silence. The minutes stretched into what felt like hours.

"Beck."

"Yeah."

"I don't want to go back to the apartment."

"Then where do you want to go?"

I thought about it. The rink. The one where we used to skate. The one where he first held my hand.

"The rink."

He didn't ask why. He just started the engine and drove.

The rink was dark, empty, frozen in time. We sat in the stands, the cold seeping through our jackets.

"I used to hate it here," I said.

"Here?"

"This rink. It reminded me of all the things I couldn't do. Skate, play hockey, be part of something." I looked at him. "Then you brought me here."

"Because I needed you to see that you could be part of something."

He turned to face me. "Ivy, your father is not your fault. The network is not your fault. None of this is your fault."

"You keep saying that."

"Because I keep meaning it."

He leaned over and kissed me. His lips were cold, but his hand was warm on my cheek. "I'm not going anywhere."

"I know."

"Then let me help you carry this."

I closed my eyes. "Okay."

The next morning, Elena called. "Your father is being processed. He's cooperating."

"He's cooperating?"

"He's giving names. Locations. Everything he knows about Victoria's network."

"What about Lena?"

"She's gone. We can't find her."

I hung up and stared at the wall. Lena had vanished. Diana had disappeared. Vanessa was still out there. The network was still alive.

Beck found me in the kitchen, staring at cold coffee. "Elena called."

"I know."

"Your father is helping."

"I know."

"That's good."

"Is it?"

He took the mug from my hands and set it down. "It's a start."

I looked at him. "What if it's not enough? What if there's always someone else? Another threat, another secret, another betrayal?"

"Then we deal with them when they come."

"And if they never stop?"

"Then we never stop dealing with them."

I pulled him into a hug. "I'm tired."

"I know."

"Tired of running. Tired of hiding. Tired of being afraid."

"Then let's stop."

"How?"

He pulled back and looked at me. "We live our lives. We fight when we have to. But we don't let them win."

I didn't have an answer. But I nodded.

Later that night, my phone buzzed.

"Your father is talking. But he doesn't know everything. I do. Meet me tomorrow. The old rink. Noon. Come alone, or the truth dies with me."

I read the message three times. My hands were cold.

I didn't show Beck.

I didn't sleep.

I just stared at the ceiling.

Tomorrow, another secret.

Tomorrow, another trap.

Tomorrow, another truth waiting to be uncovered.

The phone buzzed again.

"I know about Victoria. I know about your mother. I know about the notebook. I know everything."

I turned off the phone.

In the dark, the shadows were still there.