Chapter 9
Claire
The cabin was quiet in the way only isolated places ever were. Just the soft hum of the refrigerator and the distant rustle of wind moving through the orchard. I sat cross-legged on my bed, laptop open in front of me, notes spread out around it like a puzzle missing too many pieces.
I’d showered already, changed into leggings and a soft sweater, my hair was still damp at the ends.
My body was tired from the day’s work, but my mind refused to slow.
Val-du-Lys filled my screen. Old articles.
Court summaries. Archived local reports.
Names that kept circling back to the same few families.
The same few roads. The same silences. Marcel Bellerose.
Charges. Appeals. Dismissals. From a criminology standpoint, it was baffling. From a human one, it wasn’t.
A knock sounded at the door. I startled, my heart jumping before logic caught up.
When I opened it, Harmony stood there. She looked different outside the bakery, less polished, more real.
She was wearing blue jeans, a butter yellow sweater and she had her hair pulled back loosely.
She smiled, but there was hesitation in it.
“I hope this isn’t strange,” she said.
“No,” I said quickly, stepping aside. “Not at all. Come in.”
She took in the small space before sitting on the edge of the chair by the table, hands folded in her lap.
“I’ve been thinking about you,” she said, surprising me.
I blinked. “Really?”
She nodded. “All week. Ever since Asher mentioned your friend.”
Something in my chest tightened. “Oh, um, well, he’s stubborn, he wanted to know why I chose to work here,” I explained.
“All the Thorne brothers are stubborn, but in a good way,” she said gently. “Asher means well. They are also very protective. It comes as natural as breath for them.”
“That’s good to know,” I replied, a little uneasy about where this talk was going.
“Once I heard what happened… I couldn’t stop thinking about it,” she confessed. She paused, then added quietly, “My mom was killed. And I never really got answers either.”
I swallowed. “I’m sorry.”
“I know you’re studying criminology,” Harmony continued. “And I figured… if anyone would understand why that kind of not-knowing stays with you, it’d be you.”
I nodded. “It doesn’t go away.”
She looked at my laptop, then back at me. “Have you looked into my father’s case?”
“I have,” I admitted. “In depth.”
Her mouth tightened, not in anger. In recognition.
“So, what do you think? It’s crazy that he got off on all charges,” she said. I knew she had tried to put him away and failed.
“Professionally,” I said carefully, “it’s one of the most implausible legal collapses I’ve ever seen. That level of organization doesn’t just evaporate.”
Harmony let out a breath. “It didn’t he probably bribed some people on the inside.”
The word hung between us. I hesitated, then said the thing I’d been circling since the moment she walked in. “Can I ask you about someone?”
Her shoulders tensed almost imperceptibly. “Who?”
“Nico Mercier.”
Her reaction was immediate. Harmony’s gaze flicked away, jaw tightening. She stood abruptly and crossed to the small window, arms folding across her chest. “I wondered when you’d get to him,” she said.
“You know him,” I said quietly.
She let out a humorless laugh. “We dated in high school. Briefly.”
“And now?”
She turned back to face me, eyes guarded. “He’s running things while my father keeps a low profile.”
I nodded slowly.
Harmony studied me for a long moment. “You need to be careful.”
“I know.”
“No,” she said firmly. “You really do. Nico doesn’t like people asking questions. Especially outsiders.”
“I’m not trying to cause trouble,” I said.
She softened slightly. “I believe you.”
There was a pause, then she glanced at the clock on the wall. “Are you going to the fight tonight?”
“Yes,” I said. “Jonah’s driving.”
She smiled faintly. “I’ll be staying in town. Eric’s on call with the fire department.”
She moved toward the door, then stopped. “For what it’s worth… I’m glad you’re here. Just be careful.”
After she left, I sat there for a long moment before finally closing my laptop.
Then I stood and turned toward my closet. Getting ready took longer than it should have. I changed outfits twice. Then a third time. Too casual. Too much. Too obvious. Too careful.
Finally, I settled on dark jeans and a fitted black top and paired it with sneakers. Nothing that screamed trying, but nothing that hid me either. I blew out my hair, watching my reflection as it fell into soft waves around my shoulders.
“You’re going to watch a fight,” I told myself. “Not a date.” Still, my pulse said otherwise. When I stepped outside, Jonah was already leaning against his car, keys in hand.
He looked up and whistled. “Damn, Claire you clean up nice.”
I laughed. “You’ve only seen me covered in dirt.”
“That’s still a look,” he said.
I was about to reply when footsteps sounded behind us. Asher crossed the path toward his truck, duffel slung over his shoulder. He glanced up and stopped for a second. Then his jaw tightened and he looked away.
“Just waiting on Elise and Soleil. Marc isn’t coming,” Jonah stated.
“Cool,” I said, my heart suddenly racing.
Elise and Soleil showed up moments later.
“You both look amazing,” I said to them.
“Look who’s talking,” Soleil joked.
“You’re going to make Asher lose focus,” Elise said, laughing.
Asher grunted and opened his truck door. “Good luck tonight,” I said.
The others wished him luck too, but he only nodded.
It seemed like he was in some kind of zone and didn’t want to lose focus.
Asher drove off, and we followed. I sat shotgun, and Jonah let me control the music from my phone.
The drive was fast and easy, but when we got to the stadium, I didn’t know what to expect.
I’d never seen a fight before, and Asher seemed so intense when we left Maple Valley.
I took a deep breath and left the car not ready for how much this fight was about to matter.