Epilogue
The valley finally seemed to breathe again. Across the ridge, the houses at Riverbend stood skeletal against the sky—no longer a crime scene, just timber waiting for new life.
David Mercer stood in the side pasture, watching Davie pitch.
MiMi and PopPop sat in lawn chairs, coffee between them, tracking every throw.
“Keep your eye on the glove, baby!” MiMi called.
“Throw smoke!” PopPop yelled.
“Don’t tell him to throw smoke,” MiMi snapped, though she was smiling.
David laughed, tossing the ball back to his son. But his gaze drifted to the new fence line by the barn. He and Danny had spent a week framing it last summer, laughing over a cooler of beer while they worked the post-hole digger. Now the cedar looked different.
He stood there a moment.
Every straight line was a reminder of the brother who had loved him enough to confess—and lied enough to ruin them.
David rested a hand on the top rail, feeling the rough grain beneath his palm. It was a scar on the land, but it was solid. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever tear it down, or if he’d just let the honeysuckle cover it until it became part of the view.
He tossed the ball again, steady this time.
The secrets were gone.
Tomorrow didn’t feel like a sentence.
It felt like a choice.
Sunlight slanted through the windows of Harper No Ethical Violations Found
“I just came from the courthouse,” Deck said, hooking his thumbs in his pockets. “Had a chat with my sources. The inquiry is officially closed. Your man is safe, Ellie-girl. He’s got nothin’ to worry about but his next reelection.”
Eleanor picked up the paper, her thumb tracing the ink.
The "Ice Queen" of Charleston was gone—buried under Blue Ridge red clay.
She looked at Deck and smiled. A real, grounded smile.
“Thank you, Deck. For everything.”
“Aye,” he said, already heading for the door. “Don’t get sentimental. Your mother has called me twice already. Answer your phone.”
The Sylva farmers’ market was a riot of strawberries and honey. No satellite trucks. No microphones. Just the steady hum of a town that had finally moved on.
Caitlin and Burke sat at a small table near the coffee stand, watching the crowd.
Caitlin leaned slightly closer to the sheriff as her gaze drifted to the edge of the market where Grant, Burke’s brother, stood alone near his truck—cowboy hat pushed back, arms crossed, shoulders set, looking as immovable and shadowed as the ridge itself.
“Burke,” Caitlin said softly, “I really wish Grant had someone. He seems… lonely.”
Burke followed her gaze, unimpressed. “He’s too mean to be lonely.”
Caitlin swatted his arm, but she didn’t look away, a quiet spark of worry in her eyes.
A few yards away, Reid’s hand rested at the small of Eleanor’s back as they crossed the street—a touch that was no longer a scandal, just a fact.
Suddenly, both of their phones pinged in perfect, synchronized rhythm.
They froze.
They shared a look—that sharp, instinctive dread the last few weeks had carved into them. That sharp, familiar dread. The world reaching for them again.
Then both phones buzzed again.
“On three?” Reid asked, jaw tight.
“On three,” Eleanor said.
They pulled their phones out together.
A photo filled both screens.
The two of them at the strawberry stand—caught mid-laugh, Eleanor’s head tipped back, Reid looking at her like he’d forgotten anyone else in Jackson County existed.
A message lit up beneath it:
APRIL:
Evidence is in. The Sexy DA and the Hot Defense Attorney have been found guilty of being adorable in public.
I’m recommending life without parole.
#LawyerLust #HappyLooksGoodOnYou
Reid let out a breath that broke into a quiet laugh, the tension draining from his shoulders.
Eleanor laughed with him—easy and unguarded.
“Well,” she said, glancing up at him, “at least she’s consistent.”
Reid looked down at her, something easy and sure in his expression.
“I’m not fighting that conviction.”
“Me neither,” she said.
She slipped her phone back into her bag—and this time, it felt light.
Reid laced his fingers through hers, pulling her closer as they turned toward the coffee stand.
The world wasn’t a headline anymore.
It was just morning sunlight, coffee, and the man beside her.
Home.