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Chapter 129:: Wren Again
publish date:
2026-07-21 23:23:00
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THE PRICE OF LETTING GO Chapter 135:The Morning After
I woke up on Fletcher’s couch with a blanket someone had draped over me sometime in the night.The house was quiet. Real quiet, not the held-breath kind we had all been living inside for weeks. Sunlight came through the tall windows and landed warm across the floor, and for a moment I just lay there, listening to nothing happen.Dominic was asleep in the armchair across the room, still in yesterday’s shirt, his neck bent at an angle that would hurt when he woke up. I watched him for a long moment. The lines around his eyes had softened in sleep, the constant vigilance finally let go.I got up carefully, not wanting to wake him, and found the kitchen.Fletcher was already there, coffee in hand, staring out the window at nothing in particular.“Couldn’t sleep either,” he said, not turning around.“I slept some.” I found a mug and poured myself coffee from the pot he’d made. “Just woke up and couldn’t fall back.”“That happens after something like last night.” He finally looked at me. “H
THE PRICE OF LETTING GO Chapter 134: The House Upstate Again
The gravel drive looked the same as it had the first time, dark and long, the house rising up at the end of it with a single light burning in the study window.“He’s already inside,” Dominic said, staring at that light through the windshield, his hand still gripping mine tight enough to hurt. “He knew we’d come here.”“How,” I asked. “How would he know?”“Because it’s the one place that means something,” Dominic said. “He’s been watching us long enough to know that.”Priya had called the police the moment we left the gallery, but we had a head start Reyes didn’t know about, and Dominic would not wait in the car for sirens that might arrive too late.“I’m going in,” he said, already reaching for the door handle.“We’re going in,” I said.He looked at me, and for once, he did not argue.The front door was unlocked, same as before. We stepped into the dark hallway, past the frozen grandfather clock, past the portraits that watched us with painted, indifferent eyes. Our footsteps sounded
THE PRICE OF LETTING GO Chapter 133: The Study
Fletcher’s townhouse felt different walking in this time.He went straight for the study, his pace quickening with every step, the rest of us trailing behind him through the dark hallway lined with portraits I still hadn’t stopped to look at. His footsteps echoed loud against the old floors, faster than I had ever heard him move.He stopped in the doorway.The desk drawer stood open.“No,” he said quietly. “No, no, no.”He crossed the room fast, pulling the drawer all the way out, both hands searching through papers and old letters that scattered onto the floor, his careful, deliberate manner completely gone now, replaced by something raw and desperate.“Fletcher.” Dominic’s voice was careful. “Is it gone?”Fletcher did not answer right away. He sat down hard in his desk chair, staring at the empty space where the wooden box had sat since the night he’d finally opened it, the box that had held a photograph of two sisters and a letter meant for me.“It’s gone,” he said finally. “The on
THE PRICE OF LETTING GO Chapter 132: Live
We watched the rest of the interview standing in the airport corridor, all of us crowded around my phone screen, the ordinary sounds of the terminal fading into background noise. Wren leaned against the wall, still catching her breath, her flight bag dropped at her feet.“I built something out of nothing,” Reyes was saying, his voice steady, practiced. “And a family that already had everything decided I wasn’t worth the room I stood in. I have spent fifteen years watching them get richer while pretending men like me don’t exist. So yes, I fought back. I make no apology for that.”The reporter’s voice, off camera, asked a question we couldn’t fully hear.“The allegations against me are exaggerated,” Reyes continued. “I have never once threatened anyone’s safety. Everything I have done has been within the bounds of business and law.”Dominic’s jaw tightened beside me, his hand finding mine automatically. “That’s a lie he’s saying to a camera.”“Keep watching,” Priya said, her voice tigh
THE PRICE OF LETTING GO Chapter 131: Baggage Claim
“Call her back,” Dominic said, already moving toward the courthouse doors. “Right now.”I dialed with hands that would not stay steady. It rang twice before she picked up, her voice low and fast, barely above a whisper.“I’m in the bathroom,” Wren whispered. “I locked myself in a stall. I don’t know what to do.”“Are they still there,” I asked, matching her low voice without meaning to, like the danger might hear us through the phone too.“I don’t know. I couldn’t see them from here. Selene, what if they’re actually just airport security or something and I’m panicking over nothing.”“Describe them,” Dominic said, close enough to the phone that she could hear him too.“Dark jackets. Not uniforms. They were standing by the escalator watching the doors, not the bags. People who wait for luggage don’t watch the doors.”Fletcher was already on his own phone, giving an address, his voice clipped and urgent.“My team is fifteen minutes out,” he said. “Tell her to stay exactly where she is.”
THE PRICE OF LETTING GO Chapter 130: The Hearing
The courthouse hallway smelled like old paper and floor polish.I sat between Dominic and Camille on a hard wooden bench, my hands twisted together in my lap so tight my knuckles had gone white. Down the hall, through a heavy wooden door, a judge waited to hear a stranger’s version of my own marriage. Petra sat on my other side, her bad leg stretched out in front of her, Fletcher and Adrienne standing near the window, both of them too restless to sit.“You don’t have to testify,” our lawyer said again. Her name was Marion, sharp-eyed, calm in the particular way people get when they’ve done this a hundred times before. “You can let us handle the response.”“I want to speak,” I said. “If a judge is going to decide whether I’m afraid of him, I want that judge to actually hear my voice, not just read a document.”Dominic’s hand found mine, his thumb pressing once against my knuckles. “You don’t have to prove anything to anyone.”“I know,” I said. “I’m doing it anyway.”He looked at me for
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