Chapter Forty-Six
Grace
AJ keeps his arm locked around my waist as we move down the Ranger station’s wide hallway, Belle steady at my side and Jasper right behind us.
I only had a single bout of vertigo on the way over here, and being able to navigate the world without the walker is freeing in a way I couldn’t have imagined even two hours ago.
The clothes Emi picked for me, the hint of makeup, and Parker’s hug as she told me she’d be in my eyeline as soon as I step up to the podium all remind me I’m not walking into this as a ghost of the woman I used to be, but as someone who survived.
Still, my pulse hasn’t gotten the memo. It hammers harder with every step. And AJ, at my side, is strung tighter than a fiddle.
Chief Harris waits at the end of the hall, arms crossed, chest puffed out. Nate leans against the wall behind him. His posture screams boredom, but even though I only met him a few days ago, I can tell it’s all an act.
“Stone,” Harris says, his tone clipped, but not unkind. “Before we walk out there, you should know—this case is stayin’ here. APD’s sorry excuse for a missin’ person’s unit ain’t gettin’ their hands on it. Marvin’s right. They fucked it up when Grace was taken. I’m not lettin’ them do it again.”
AJ stiffens, and he pulls me even closer. “Marvin’s idea, huh?” He keeps his voice steady, but anger simmers just under the surface of his skin.
The chief’s eyes narrow. “Marvin’s been coverin’ your caseload for over a week, Stone. He’s good people.”
“Maybe he is, Chief, but Grace is my wife. And I don’t want him anywhere near her case. Understood?”
The chief’s mouth flattens, and for a beat he looks like he’s about to bite AJ’s head clean off.
“You don’t get to pick who works what case, Stone. That’s my call. But”—his gaze lands on me, then shifts back to AJ—”I hear you. Loud and clear.”
Nate pushes off the wall and clears his throat. “Chief, Captain Vern with APD is here.”
I glance over my shoulder. An older man in dress blues strides down the hall like he owns the place. “Harris, you and I are gonna have words when the cameras are all gone. This is APD’s case. Always has been.”
“You had your shot three years ago,” Harris snaps. “You pissed it down the drain. You don’t get to do it again.”
The APD captain turns his glare on me, and I suck in a sharp breath. “Mrs. Stone, we need you to come in—”
“No.” AJ’s voice is practically a snarl. “You don’t get to touch her. She’s been through enough. APD gets to stand behind her while she faces the press, but that’s as close as you get to her ever again.”
Nate makes a show of checking his watch. “Press is waiting. Save the pissing contest for later.”
The chief, his jaw tight and hands balled into fists, leads the way. Nate only a step behind him. The APD captain and Jasper bring up the rear. AJ’s twin keeps accidentally bumping into the guy, and I think the captain just called him a cretin under his breath.
We stop in front of a set of double doors. “Wait here,” Harris orders. He and Captain Vern march through the doors first. For the brief moment they’re open, the loud buzz from the reporters sends my heart into my throat.
AJ’s arm tightens, as if he knows I’m close to unraveling. Jasper cracks one of the doors open so we can hear what’s going on.
“Almost three years ago, Grace Stone, the wife of Captain AJ Stone, disappeared while running on the Butler trail by Lady Bird Lake. Austin PD and the Department of Public Safety investigated the case for months, but no trace of Mrs. Stone was ever found. Until nine days ago.”
“That’s our cue,” AJ murmurs softly, and Nate holds the door open for us.
With Belle and my husband at my side, I manage to shuffle up the two steps and onto a raised platform without tripping.
Half a dozen microphones line the podium.
The constant click of camera shutters is almost overwhelming.
Bright lights glare overhead. My headache returns with a sudden vengeance, and I sway until AJ steadies me.
Chief Harris and Captain Vern move off to one side of the platform, while Nate stands on the other, close to the double doors.
For a moment, I search the crowd, seeking out the handful of people—besides AJ—who can anchor me if I panic. Emi’s right up front, her press badge hanging from a lanyard around her neck.
Connor and Isabel are in the fourth row, and Jasper ambles down the center aisle to take a seat next to them. In the very back, I find Parker, who gives me a little nod of encouragement.
AJ clears his throat. “When Grace disappeared, I started runnin’ the Butler trail every weekend.
Never really knew why, ‘cept it was the only thing that let me feel close to her. A week ago Saturday, when I got to the spot where her water bottle and phone were found, she was standin’ there.
Disoriented, barefoot, wearin’ a white dress stained with her blood.
And she had no memory of me, her life, or even her name. ”
Half a dozen reporters shout questions at once. I flinch, curling closer to AJ. Belle’s low growl rumbles against my leg.
“My wife’s been through hell,” he snaps. “Show her some goddamn respect.”
The shouts fade to dull whispers, and AJ nods. “I’m fixin’ to tell you the rest, and then Grace’ll take a few questions.”
AJ sticks to the fabricated story. The truth that’s not the truth, but not entirely a lie either.
After he tells the reporters that only small fragments of my memories have returned, he presses a kiss to the top of my head. “We waited to come forward until Grace was strong enough to take questions and face a room full of people she doesn’t know. Don’t make her regret showin’ up here today.”
AJ takes a step back, but I can still feel the heat of him behind me. Still smell his aftershave. Still feel his hand brush mine.
Belle stands up, pressing against my legs, and letting me lean on her through her harness.
“Grace?” Emi’s polished, confident voice carries over the din in the room. “Emmylou Marsh with Channel Five News. Can you tell us how you’re feeling today?”
My throat tightens, but we rehearsed this, and I grab onto the lifeline she offers me. “Tired. A little…overwhelmed. But grateful. To be here. To be alive. To be back home with my husband who never stopped looking for me.”
Emi’s gentle smile gives me a tiny boost of confidence.
A couple of seats over, another woman rises to her feet. “Natalie Rosa from News Network Now. What’s the first thing you remember after being found?”
I glance down at Belle, then at AJ. This…wasn’t one of the questions we practiced. But…
“AJ’s arms around me. How safe he made me feel, even though I didn’t kn-know who he was.”
Murmured voices ripple through the room. The anxiety squeezing my chest tightens a notch. I’m so exposed up here. The shutters don’t stop clicking, and half a dozen red lights glow where video cameras are trained directly on me.
“Do you remember your family? Your friends?” a man shouts from a few rows back.
I swallow hard, my throat dry as sand. “N-no. Not yet. Moments, here and there, from years ago. But nothing more.”
Before I can even take a breath, another voice cuts in. “Where were you held? Were there others?”
The questions pile on top of one another.
“Was it a trafficking ring?”
“Why wasn’t there a ransom demand?”
“Can you describe your injuries?”
“How did you escape?”
“Do you think your captors are still out there?”
Flash bulbs erupt. Voices overlap until they turn into a crashing wave, threatening to pull me under. Belle whines, nosing my thigh and pawing at the floor.
AJ steps forward, one hand braced on the podium, the other curling around my waist. “One question at a time or this is over.”
Silence descends so quickly, it’s disorienting.
Until a younger man in the back stands. “Captain Stone, Mrs. Stone. With respect, this is all a little too neat and tidy. She vanishes, no clues for almost three years, then magically reappears in the exact same spot? You honestly expect us to believe that?”
“It…it’s the truth,” I say, my voice cracking on the last word. “I don’t know how I got there. Or why…when…”
The questions hit harder and faster with every passing second.
“Were you drugged?”
“Why were you wearing a white dress?”
“Were you raped?”
My grip on Belle’s harness tightens until my fingers go numb. I can’t breathe—
“Enough!” AJ snarls and pulls me flush to his side. His glare finds the man who called our story too neat and tidy. “My wife ain’t a fuckin’ pinata you can bash with a stick until all the answers fall out. You want to speculate? Write a novel.”
Nate takes a step forward. Then another.
Slowly. Deliberately. If I hadn’t met him the other day, I’d cower under his icy stare.
He leans in, close to the microphones. “Cool it with the conspiracy theories. If one of you vultures has the next Pulitzer in your notebook, get out and go publish the damn thing. Otherwise, settle down.”
“One more question,” AJ says, his voice measured, barely restrained control wrapped in a fragile shield that could snap at any moment. “Then we’re done here.”
Mercifully, Emi rises, her voice anchoring me as much as AJ’s strength, Belle’s harness in my hand, and Parker’s encouraging nod. “Grace, is there one thing you’d like the people watching today to know?”
AJ, Connor, and Parker fought about this question for an hour. Whether it was worth the risk. Whether the people who took me would hear it as a challenge. In the end, I told them I had to answer it if I wanted my life back.
Swallowing hard, I lean into AJ, then take a deep breath. My pulse steadies. I can do this.
“That I survived. That surviving matters. Even though I came back different. Even though I came back broken. It still matters. I matter.”
The room goes completely and utterly silent. And for the first time since the press conference began, I don’t feel like I’m about to shatter. I feel like I’m starting to put myself back together.
AJ squeezes my waist, drawing me against his chest. His lips brush my temple, steady and grounding, and Belle leans harder into my leg, her warm weight reminding me I’m not alone.
The flashes and whispers fade into background noise as AJ guides me toward the double doors, every step both terrifying and freeing.
At the podium, Nate clears his throat and sweeps his gaze over the crowd.
“Mrs. Stone is done for today. You have more questions, you direct them to me. But keep in mind, this is an active investigation, not a late-night true crime special. You take one step outta line and your press credentials won’t be worth the paper they’re printed on. ”
The doors shut behind us, and the muffled voices of the reporters fade away.
“You did great, darlin’.” In the empty hallway, AJ slides his fingers into my hair, cupping the back of my head and slanting his lips over mine.
The promise in his kiss seeps into every part of me. I’m home. I’m safe. I’m loved.