CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
NORA
Day Seventeen
June Callahan arrives at the hospital carrying a suitcase, a casserole, and no patience for either of us.
Rhett has already been discharged to the team hotel, where a medical staff member will remain overnight. I am in the lobby waiting for Maren when June spots me.
She crosses the polished floor and pulls me into a hug.
For one second, I resist.
Then I hold on.
June smells like lavender detergent and the kitchen where Rhett grew up. She taught me to make pierogi, corrected my grip on a snow shovel, and mailed birthday cards three weeks early because she did not trust the postal service.
"I am sorry," she says into my hair.
"You didn't say it."
"I raised the fool who did."
"You also raised the man who accepted medical advice tonight. Progress is mysterious."
She draws back and looks at my ring on its chain. Her gaze lingers but she does not comment.
We sit in the cafeteria while she waits for a car. At midnight, the room contains vending machines, exhausted nurses, and the smell of coffee that has been punished for hours.
"He told me about the job," June says.
"Did he ask you to persuade me to stay?"
"He asked me not to. Specifically. Twice. It was annoying. I prefer giving unsolicited advice."
"That is a family trait."
She smiles, then becomes serious. "Do not forgive him because he was injured."
I look at her.
"Fear creates false clarity," she continues. "When someone you love is hurt, every other pain becomes smaller for a while. Smaller is not gone."
"I know."
"Good. I did not."
June folds her hands around a paper cup.
"When Rhett's father lost his construction job, he stopped sleeping.
He stopped laughing. Then he left a note saying we would be better without another mouth to feed.
For years, I told Rhett his father abandoned us because he was weak.
It was easier than explaining shame to a child. "
"Rhett thinks being useful prevents people from leaving."
"Yes. And he thinks needing love is the same as asking someone to carry him."
"That explains him. It doesn't excuse him."
"Explanations should not be used as erasers. They are maps. You decide whether you want to travel the road again."
Maren texts that she is delayed with police. They may have identified the person who mailed the broken lens.
June reads my expression. "News?"
"Possibly."
"Go home with security. I will take care of Rhett."
"The team has someone."
"The team does not know he lies about headaches when he thinks medicine will bench him."
"He lies about everything that can bench him."
"Another family trait."
Before we separate, June touches the chain at my throat.
"Whatever you choose," she says, "do not wear that ring as a duty."
At Maren's apartment, the detective is waiting.
The man who photographed me is named Colin Ames. Twenty-three. Part-time documentary assistant. He worked in the production booth the day of the leak and sold short video clips to celebrity accounts. He also runs several fan pages under false names.
"Did he post the original video?" I ask.
"He admits preserving a copy and sending it to an entertainment account. He denies the package and threatening email, but we found camera equipment and packaging materials in his apartment. Forensics is ongoing."
"Why me?"
The detective's expression is careful. "He says you ruined the captain's playoff run. He appears to have developed a parasocial fixation."
A clinical phrase for a stranger deciding my existence violated the story he wanted.
"Was Damon involved?"
"We found messages between them. Damon asked Ames whether any internal footage existed after the crew signed confidentiality agreements. Ames requested money. We do not yet know whether payment occurred."
Maren leans forward. "Preserve everything."
After the detective leaves, I call Tessa. She tells me Rhett is sleeping and June has confiscated his phone.
"Do not wake him," I say.
"I wasn't going to."
"Tell him tomorrow. All of it."
"I will."
I stand at the guest-room window, looking down at headlights moving through Stoneharbor.
A stranger saw Rhett as a character who belonged to him. Damon saw Rhett as a product. Sponsors saw a campaign. Fans saw a captain.
I had seen the man.
But perhaps I also treated being the only one who knew him as proof that I could survive being hidden.
At one in the morning, a message arrives from June using Rhett's phone.
JUNE: He is asleep. He asked twice whether you got home safely. I told him yes. I did not tell him you called because that is yours to tell.
I type back:
NORA: Thank you.
Then, after a minute:
NORA: Tell him I am glad he is all right.
It is not a promise.
But it is mine to give.