Epilogue
Eighteen months later
Rose
The lights strung on the rooftop terrace sway gently in the evening breeze and glow like stars against the soft city skyline. Music hums from hidden speakers, laughter surrounds us, and even though it’s been a while, I feel light again.
It’s my book release party.
The first copies of Fear Will Become Us sit stacked on a small table near the bar, their glossy covers catching the light. Writing this book is what brought Cal into my life. His influence seeps into each page.
However, my name looks strange on the front, like it belongs to someone else. It was almost surreal. Because so much has happened since I penned these words. I’m a different person now.
Hmm, maybe I’ll start writing under a pen name.
Focusing on the future is a really good feeling.
After that fateful night, the police arrested Maggie (obviously) and charged her with a laundry list of crimes. She pled guilty, and the judge sentenced her to fifteen to twenty years. She’s serving out her time in a prison four hours away.
I haven’t spoken to her since that day at the hospital. Mom, Denny, Cal, and I did, however, attend her sentencing hearing. The court asked whether we wanted to make a statement.
We both refused.
Then there’s Niko. He pleaded not guilty, and the trial dragged on for two long weeks.
His weak and lame defense was that Maggie forced him into everything.
We were all subpoenaed to testify, which was …
brutal. Reliving everything that happened felt like tearing open wounds that were just starting to heal.
But if it meant justice, if it meant making sure he could never hurt anyone again, it was worth it.
Maggie had to testify also. Seeing her in person—hearing her testify about the events—was hard enough.
But listening as she laid out, for the first time, how they planned everything from the start made it worse.
There was no remorse in her voice. No awareness of the damage she’d caused.
If anything, it was proof she hadn’t learned a single thing from her mistakes.
When her testimony ended and she was escorted out of the courtroom, she turned back and flipped us off as a final goodbye.
Thankfully, the jury saw the truth, and they found him guilty on all charges. His sentencing is next week, and I can only hope the judge throws the book at him. Maybe then, we can all officially move on.
Mom is standing near the railing, a glass of champagne in her hand, appearing healthier than I’ve seen her in months. Both of us are in therapy, trying to process and heal. Maggie’s betrayal, the lies, and for me, Niko.
All of it.
Our typical brush-it-off mentality wasn’t working like it had before. This was too big. Too hard. So the therapy’s been helpful. It’s been difficult to navigate. Maggie was a big part of my life, which now makes my happy childhood memories tainted.
Processing it all has been my biggest challenge, but I’m moving on.
My mom, though, has dealt with some depression and anxiety stemming from all the trauma. She’s managing it, and lately, it’s like the fog is lifting.
She’s smiling again. And finding joy in her job and life.
And through it all, my rock, my gorgeous boyfriend, stands beside me. Like he is right now.
It was a few months before we actually got around to that drink.
Cal’s shoulder surgery kept him grounded for a while, and recovery wasn’t exactly romantic.
But we made the best of it. There were long nights, slow progress, and laughter where we could find it.
It was during this time, though, that we really got to know each other, which only brought us closer.
We joke about how we were technically together that whole time but couldn’t have a proper date. When we finally did, though, it definitely made up for the last attempt.
Right now, Cal’s dressed in a crisp white shirt and a light gray jacket with matching slacks that hug his legs. The change suits him. It’s subtle and understated. Just like Cal. He even has a little color in his wardrobe now.
Yeah, okay … it’s only gray and white. I can’t push too hard.
I spot one of Juno’s hairs clinging to Cal’s forearm and try to pluck it off before he notices.
He notices. He always does. “That little guy follows me everywhere, doesn’t he?” he quips through a smirk.
I flick the hair away and squeeze his arm. “He’s claimed you,” I tease.
It’s true … Juno completely won him over.
At first, Cal swore he wasn’t a small dog guy, always insisting he preferred big, tough dogs like German Shepherds or Labs.
Then, one afternoon during his recovery, Juno climbed into his lap, gave him one lick on the hand, and that was it. Instant best friends.
Now, the two best men in my life are inseparable. Honestly, what more could I ask for?
Cal grins, glancing at me and playfully nudging my side. “Well,” he says, “you could ask him to stop stealing my favorite chair.”
I laugh. “Not a chance. He was there first.”
He chuckles, amused. “Figures. Guess I'll have to share my girl with a dog."
The breeze lifts a stray curl from my forehead, and his eyes track the motion, soft and full of something that makes my heart stutter.
I love these two sides of Cal. The tough cop and the tender loving man that’s here tonight. Both versions stir my blood.
“You did it,” Cal says quietly, his hand brushing mine.
I grin. “We did it.” He kisses me gently. “Seriously, I couldn’t do any of this without you and your support.”
He places a soft peck at the end of my nose. “You’ll always have my support, Sheridan.” I love that he still calls me that. I’m Rose when it counts. Those private, quiet moments when it’s just us, and I’m nuzzled up against him. But when we are outside of that, I’m Sheridan.
He tilts his head. “So what’s next for the great Rose Sheridan?”
I sip my champagne, eyes glinting. “Actually … after some thought, I think my next book’s going to be about what happened. All of it.”
He rears his body back and chuckles. “Really? You didn’t tell me that. Nonfiction?”
“Fictionalized,” I say with a smirk. “Names changed, events rearranged. But the truth will still be there.”
He nods thoughtfully. “You’re braver than most.”
“You’re braver than them all.”
Across the terrace, Denny appears next to my mom, his tie slightly loosened, the ever-serious broody detective looking oddly relaxed.
When Cal requested the night off for the party, Denny’s reply was everything and more.
“Of course. So what time should I be there, and do I have to wear a tie?” When Cal told me, I had to negotiate an extra ticket for him.
I love that he fits right in with our crazy group. I wouldn’t change a thing.
And the other person I had to fenagle a ticket for is walking toward us.
The head of security. Michael Hawkins. After everything, he approached Denny and asked him if the precinct had any job openings.
Turns out the failings of the hotel was his last straw.
He had been ready to move on for a while, tired of their incompetence.
Plus, he forgot how much he loved detective work.
And since Cal was so impressed with him, the decision was an easy one.
He was hired in two months later. And is now one of Cal's best friends.
"I just wanted to come over and say bye," he offers, warm as always. "Congratulations Rose."
"Thanks Michael." I smile at the man that helped more then he knows that night.
He slaps Cal on the arm. "Poker at my place tomorrow?"
"I'll be there." Cal says with a laugh.
Michael jerks his head in the direction of my mom. "Well, I would say good-bye to Denny but he looks a little busy," he says with a wink as he walks away.
My eyes dart back to the railing and Denny rests his elbows on the glass by Mom, then leans in to say something. She laughs. A real, unguarded laugh that I haven’t heard from her in a very long time.
Cal follows my line of sight and grins. “Well, well.”
I nudge him with my elbow. “What?”
“Your mom and my boss,” he says, raising an eyebrow and then taking another pull of his drink.
“I definitely saw that coming.” I laugh softly. With all the trial prep, the four of us have spent plenty of time together. It was in those moments that my mom would light up.
And I knew why.
Cal leans in and whispers in my ear, “If he offers to buy her a drink, we might be in trouble.”
At that exact moment, Denny mouths something and gestures toward the bar. Mom blushes, smiles, and follows him.
Cal snorts. “Called it.”
“I love it.” I laugh, nodding my head.
We watch them go, both of us smiling. My mom and Denny. Somehow, it fits. Seeing her laugh again is amazing. To know that the storm has passed.
“So,” I say, placing my drink on a neighboring table, then turning to him, resting my palms on his shirt, “what do you have planned for later?”
He slides his arm around my waist, pulling me just close enough to make my breath catch. “It’s a surprise,” he murmurs.
I tilt my head, pretending to pout. “You know I hate surprises.”
He kisses me softly, the kind of kiss that still makes me giddy no matter how many times he’s done it. “You’ll like this one,” he promises against my lips. “I have a question to ask you.”
We exchange a knowing, lingering look as I raise an eyebrow. His lips press against my forehead. “Nevermind, I’m not waiting anymore. Let’s get out of here.”
I glance around the open space, content with the evening. “I think I’ve schmoozed enough people.”
Cal slings his arm around my shoulder and we walk toward the elevator, the laughter and music fading behind us. As the doors slide shut, I spin, grab his jacket collar, and pull his lips to mine.
You know, since we’re big on elevator kisses.
It’s kind of our thing.