25. Chapter 25 #2
I shake my head, moving to my laptop on the kitchen counter.
"Nothing since yesterday. I've been monitoring the feeds remotely during work, but.
.." I trail off, fingers already tapping against the keyboard in that familiar rhythm that helps me focus when everything feels too loud, too bright, too much.
"But our ghost is too good," Theo finishes, coming to stand beside me as I pull up the security program. "Have you thought more about telling her?"
My fingers pause over the keyboard. "Every day," I admit. "But she's finally making progress. Speaking. Sleeping through the night. I don't want to set her back."
Theo runs a hand through his damp hair, frustration evident in the gesture. "I get that, but if this psycho is escalating—"
"I know," I cut him off, more sharply than intended. I take a breath, recalibrating. "Sorry. I just... I need to solve this. There has to be a pattern, something I'm missing."
He squeezes my shoulder briefly—a gesture of solidarity that would have been unthinkable two months ago. "We'll figure it out. In the meantime, we keep her safe."
I nod, turning back to the feeds. The cameras show empty hallways, quiet rooms, normal shadows. Nothing out of place. Nothing to explain how someone keeps breaching our defenses.
"Maybe it's time we brought in professional help," Theo suggests, leaning against the counter.
"The police would need evidence of an actual threat," I counter, scrolling through archived footage. "Notes and gifts aren't enough, especially with her history."
The unspoken truth hangs between us: Wren's connection to Lucien Cain complicates everything. The sister of the Reaper claiming to be stalked would draw attention she can't afford—media, true crime enthusiasts, maybe even Lucien himself.
But as I stare at the screen, a thought forms that I've been avoiding for weeks.
"What if we did go to the police?" I say, my voice so quiet I'm not sure Theo even hears me at first. "Not publicly. Just... quietly."
Theo's eyebrows shoot up. "You're serious?"
My fingers continue to tap against the keyboard as I organize my thoughts. "We could request discretion. Explain the situation. They wouldn't want a media circus any more than Wren would."
"That's... actually not a terrible idea," Theo admits, crossing his arms as he considers it. "A quiet investigation might catch something we're missing."
I nod, my mind already cataloging the possibilities. "The fact that Lucien is locked up means Wren shouldn't have anything to fear from the police now. They're not going to suspect her of anything related to him."
"And it would give us actual resources," Theo adds, warming to the idea. "Someone who could maybe figure out who the hell is doing this."
The sound of the shower shutting off makes us both glance toward the bathroom.
"We need to tell her first," I say firmly. "No more secrets. She deserves to know what's been happening."
Theo's expression tightens. "It's going to scare her."
"I know. But keeping her in the dark isn't protecting her anymore. It's just..." I struggle to find the right words, my thoughts racing ahead of my ability to articulate them. "It's taking away her agency. Her right to make informed decisions about her own safety."
Theo studies me for a moment, then nods. "You're right. We tell her everything—the notes, the gifts, the security footage. Then we discuss the police option together."
"After her breakthrough today, though," I add, glancing toward the bathroom door. "Let her have tonight to celebrate finding her voice again."
"Agreed." Theo runs a hand through his still-damp hair. "Tomorrow morning?"
"Tomorrow morning," I confirm. "We'll show her everything, lay out the options, and support whatever she decides."
A weight lifts from my shoulders at the decision.
I've never been comfortable with deception, even when the intention is protection.
The constant vigilance, the silent coordination between Theo and me to intercept the stalker's "gifts" before Wren could see them—it's been wearing on me more than I've admitted, even to myself.
"We're doing the right thing," I say, more to reassure myself than Theo.
"I know." He claps me on the shoulder. "And hey, maybe she'll surprise us. She's stronger than either of us give her credit for sometimes."
The bathroom door opens, releasing a cloud of steam and the scent of Wren's shampoo—lavender and something citrusy that always makes me think of sunshine. She emerges wrapped in a towel, her pink hair darkened to almost purple with moisture, her skin flushed from the heat.
The sight of her momentarily short-circuits my brain, derailing my train of thought completely. Even after six weeks of waking up beside her, of learning every curve and freckle of her body, she still has this effect on me—this ability to make everything else fade into background noise.
"You're staring," Theo murmurs, amusement evident in his voice.
"So are you," I counter without looking away from her.
She smiles, catching us both staring, and signs, "You two are ridiculous," before disappearing into the bedroom to change.
"We are," I agree once she's gone, though I'm not sure if I'm speaking to Theo or myself. "Completely ridiculous."