Chapter 26
Gaby’s second-floor walkup had never felt so small. Or so quiet.
Natalie moved through it like someone unsure where her body ended, and the world began. She barely spoke that first night, mostly picking at her food, then curled at the far end of the couch with a blanket pulled tight around her shoulders, eyes fixed on nothing in particular.
Not frightened. Just distant.
They didn’t talk about what happened. Gaby didn’t push—not yet.
She made tea. Put on a mindless movie. Sat beside her sister and talked about everything except the island—her neighbor’s dog who hated the mailman, a book Natalie had loved as a kid, the beach they used to sneak off to when Gaby learned to drive.
It was enough for now.
She took time off from work she didn’t even have as a new employee. But Dev insisted, and his eyes flashed with something close to anger when she apologized.
Emily dropped by twice with chef-level comfort food, her usual warmth, and gentle humor.
Rhys didn’t come by, but he called every evening.
“How’s she doing today?”
“Did she eat?”
“Did she sleep?”
He’d always end the Natalie line of questioning with, “What about you?”
It wasn’t overstepping. Just unmistakably caring.
Cari texted. Mateo and Leland both checked in, brief and respectful.
Her friends, who had become like family, gave them space as life slowly reasserted itself.
One night, they stood shoulder to shoulder in the narrow galley kitchen—Gaby stirring spaghetti sauce while Natalie chopped vegetables for a salad. The rhythm of it was familiar. Comforting.
Then Natalie broke the silence. “I can’t stay here.”
Gaby paused mid-stir. Not panicked yet, just alert.
“Where here?” she asked gently. “In my apartment?”
Natalie shook her head. “In South Florida. It reminds me too much of the island. The heat. The heavy air. The way the light shines off the water.” She swallowed. “I want to be somewhere completely different.”
Gaby turned the heat down to a simmer, set the lid on the pot, and leaned her hip against the counter, giving her sister her full attention. “So… the desert? Sedona? Moab, maybe?”
“Still too hot,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “I’m thinking mountains. Evergreens. Seasons. Snow.”
Gaby’s breath caught just a little. “You talked to Aunt May.”
“She invited me to stay with her as long as I need.”
“Of course she did.”
Natalie smiled faintly. “She was there to pick up the pieces for all of us when Dad walked out. And when Mom died…” Her voice softened.
“She’s always been there during the hard times.
Not that you weren’t,” she added quickly.
“But you were still a kid yourself, Gaby. With your whole life ahead of you. Even now.” She took a breath. “I think it would be good for me.”
“I do too, honey,” Gaby murmured, as she reached out, curled her arms around her, and pulled her in for a tight hug—paring knife and all. Her voice cracked with emotion, admitting, “Even though I’ll miss you like hell.”
Natalie’s response was muffled against her shoulder. “They have an airport in Denver. No one says you can’t visit.”
Gaby released her, forcing a smile. “I’ve always wanted to learn how to ski.”
“We’ll plan something. But maybe stay here until you resolve your issues with the smoking-hot badass who calls you once a day with the excuse of checking up on me and has the sweetest habit of calling you ‘love.’”
Gaby sighed softly, a smile tugging at her lips. “His accent’s hot too, isn’t it?”
“I knew it!” Natalie exclaimed. Then she laughed, bright and sudden, the sound cutting through the heaviness like sunlight through cloud cover. Gaby’s chest eased, the knot she’d been carrying since bringing her sister home finally loosening.
Not relief, exactly, but the sense that—maybe not today, maybe not soon—things would eventually be okay.
They made the reservations for a one-way trip to Colorado that night.
***
The next few days passed in a strange, fragile peace.
They went for short walks. Cooked together. Sat on the balcony in the evenings, watching the city lights flicker on. And Gaby helped her pack.
The night before Natalie’s flight, Rhys called as usual. He ran through the usual questions but added a new one. “Can I drive you to the airport? Carry your bags? Stand by with Kleenex?”
“Does everyone see through my PI tough-girl persona?”
“I don’t know about everyone. But I do. And I like what I see.”
His words caught her off guard, making her feel warm inside. She had to clear her throat before she could speak, and the laugh she managed was a shade too high to be real.
“I… uh… thanks.” She closed her eyes, mortified.
Smooth, Gaby. Real smooth.
Pushing forward before he could hear the wobble in her voice, she hadn’t quite hidden, she added, “Emily already volunteered to be my moral support, but I appreciate the offer.”
Silence stretched between them. Then he said, “We should have that talk soon.”
“I haven’t forgotten.” How could she? When she wasn’t thinking about Natalie, she was thinking about the woman who’d betrayed him, and all the ways she wanted to make her pay, and she didn’t know the full story. “I’ve just needed to focus on things here.”
“Of course. That’s a given.” Another pause. “What time does her flight leave?”
“At nine. Which makes it an early morning with security and all.”
“Right. I should let you go and get some sleep.”
His voice was steady, but Gaby heard the effort it took to keep it that way.
“Good night, Rhys.”
“Night, love. Wish your sister safe travels for me.”
Later, lying in bed with too many thoughts crowding her mind, she remembered the night he’d held her—one of the few good memories from that time. She could only hope it would be repeated, once he finally said whatever it was he needed to say.
***
Natalie buried her face in Gaby’s shoulder, just as she had when they were kids. “I’ll text when I land. And we can FaceTime whenever we want,” she promised.
Gaby smiled through her tears, knowing that to her sister, whenever meant any hour, day, or night, even a sleepless 4 a.m. But she didn’t mind one bit.
“Take care of yourself,” she said, her voice thick. “And tell Aunt May to expect company after the first snowfall.”
“I’m holding you to it,” Natalie said, still clinging.
The TSA agent cleared his throat.
Natalie pulled back with a shaky breath then squared her shoulders. “Love you, Gaby.”
“Love you, too, honey. Always,” she replied.
She wiped away tears, watching her sister wheel her carry-on between the ropes. Natalie glanced back twice before the line swallowed her up.
As they walked back to the car, Gaby still sniffling and dabbing at her eyes, Emily slipped her arm through hers.
“I’m afraid those aren’t your last tears,” her friend said gently. “You’ve been through a lot. But I don’t think you’ll truly breathe easy until you settle things with Rhys.”
Gaby sighed. “That’s next on my list.”
“It’s on his too,” she said, beeping the door locks on her SUV. “Alec says being patient is killing him. You can’t let him die without getting answers.”
“You mean without getting you the answers,” Gaby said, laughing through her tears. Since finding the book, Emily’s curiosity had matched her own. Maybe even surpassed it.
“I expect you to share. Girl code requires it,” was her unapologetic reply when they were inside the vehicle with the doors shut.
“I’ll call him,” she said, as she buckled up. Then she leaned back in the plush leather seat and heaved a tired breath. “Tomorrow,” she clarified. “I want to be clearheaded. Which means today I need to catch up on four months of sleep.”
She ended up dozing off, not waking until Emily shook her arm gently.
“That was rude of me,” Gaby said, blinking, realizing she hadn’t seen a single second of the twenty-minute drive.
“You needed it. No worries.”
She gripped Emily’s hand before getting out. “Thanks for everything, Em. You’re a good friend.”
“Same,” Emily replied. “Which is why I need to tell you something. It’s minor in the context of everything you’ve been dealing with.”
Gaby blinked, suddenly wary. “What now?”
“You’re in my wedding next weekend.”
Gaby stared at her then slumped against the seat. “You scared me. I thought you were about to tell me something terrible.” She rolled her head on the headrest and smiled at her friend. “I’d love to come to your wedding. I’d be insulted if you didn’t invite me.”
Emily’s smile turned sheepish as she shook her head. “Not coming to. In it. As a bridesmaid.”
“Isn’t it awfully last-minute for a fitting?”
“Nope. Cari’s dress fit you perfectly, so we used her measurements. I hate to spring this on you, but you were so caught up—”
“I’d love to stand up for you,” Gaby said, truly honored that she’d asked.
“I was counting on it,” Emily said, beaming. “I’ll bring the dress by tomorrow. When you’re more rested. It’s a small ceremony. Just close friends and family, and it wouldn’t be complete without you.”
“I can’t wait,” she said. They hadn’t known each other long, but they had forged a deep bond—based on shared trauma, maybe, but real all the same.