85. Chapter 85
Cate
Present
The first thing I heard was beeping.
Steady.
Measured.
Alive.
It took longer to realize the sound was attached to me.
My eyes opened slowly, like they weren’t sure it was safe yet.
White ceiling.
Fluorescent lights.
The faint smell of antiseptic.
Hospital.
My throat hurt.
Not scratchy.
Bruised.
Every swallow felt like it had edges.
A sob broke somewhere to my left.
“Cate?”
My mother.
Her voice cracked on my name like it might break entirely.
I turned my head an inch.
That was all I could manage.
She was there.
My sister beside her, gripping her hand so tightly her knuckles were white.
They both looked like they hadn’t slept in days.
When they saw my eyes fully open, they broke.
My mother pressed her hand over her mouth and cried openly, the kind of cry that comes when something almost irreversible has been reversed at the last possible second.
“Oh, baby,” she whispered. “Oh, thank God.”
I tried to speak.
Nothing came out but air.
My sister leaned closer. “Don’t,” she said softly. “You don’t have to talk.”
The television mounted in the corner of the room was on, but muted. Closed captions scrolled across the bottom.
I followed their gaze to it.
Trevor’s face filled the screen. He wasn't smiling, not his usual polished self. It was a mugshot, and next to it…
John.
A college photo.
He was younger, laughing.
Alive.
The caption read:
LOCAL ATTORNEY CHARGED WITH MURDER, KIDNAPPING, ATTEMPTED HOMICIDE
My stomach lurched.
I didn’t realize I’d made a sound until my mother squeezed my hand.
“It’s everywhere,” she said, tears still running freely. “The crash. The chase. Everything.”
A reporter’s mouth moved silently on the screen.
Footage cut to Trevor’s mangled car.
To flashing lights.
To Trevor in handcuffs.
Blood streaked down his temple.
Even restrained, he looked furious.
My sister grabbed the remote and turned it off.
Silence filled the room.
“He’s in custody,” she said firmly. “He’s not getting out.”
I stared at the blank screen.
Ten years of dinners and vacations and gentle hands.
Ten years that were now reduced to headlines.
My mother brushed my hair back from my forehead. “You’re safe,” she whispered.
Safe.
The word felt fragile.
A nurse stepped in, “Try not to talk much today,” she said kindly. “You’ve had trauma to the neck. Bruising, swelling. No fractures. You’re lucky.”
I closed my eyes.
The last thing I saw before everything went dark was Trevor’s hand around my throat, and the way he looked at me when they pulled him off…
Not regret.
Blame.
Time moved strangely after that.
Too fast in headlines.
Too slow in private.
Amy didn’t come to the hospital.
I called her once and left a message. She called back two days later.
Her voice was flat. “I can’t do this, Cate.”
My chest tightened. “I didn’t know,” I said. “I swear to you, I didn’t know.”
“I know,” she said.
But she didn’t sound like she believed it.
“Jim is devastated,” she continued. “My family is being torn apart. Reporters are calling my kids’ school.”
Her voice broke then. “Everything was fine until Seth came back,” she added quietly.
The words stung.
“I can’t talk to you right now.”
The line went dead.
Another fracture.
Another thing Trevor had taken.
The trial moved quickly.
There was too much evidence.
Financial records.
Phone logs.
The old detective’s suspicious case closure.
The ring.
The chase.
The attempted murder.
I didn’t have to testify.
The prosecutors said they had enough.
They were right.
I still went, just one day.
I sat in the back and watched Trevor enter in shackles.
He looked thinner, but not smaller.
He saw me immediately.
His mouth lifted, not into a smile, but into something more like triumph.
When the verdict was read, he was found guilty on all counts.
Murder in the first degree.
Kidnapping.
Attempted homicide.
Obstruction of justice.
Life in prison without parole.
He didn’t react at first, just stared ahead.
Then they stood him up and escorted him toward the door.
That’s when he broke.
“Cate!” he shouted.
The courtroom froze.
He twisted against the deputies. “I did it for you!” he yelled. “I love you! You’re nothing without me!”
My heart didn’t race.
It didn’t shatter.
It didn’t soften.
It simply… settled.
The truth had weight.
And I could carry it now.
“You’ll pay for this!” he shouted as they dragged him away. “You’ll regret this!”
The doors closed.
I didn’t stay to hear anything else.
Outside the courthouse, the sky was wide and blue.
I breathed in.
No deadbolt.
No expectation.
No hand at my back.
Just air.
And the undeniable understanding that the life I had known was over.
Not cracked.
Not bruised.
Gone.
But for the first time in ten years…
It was mine.