Chapter 4

Wyatt Walker.

The man who once sat across from me in handcuffs, accused of murder.

He didn't look like any murderer I'd ever met.

No violence in him at all.

When I sat down, he even greeted me like we were meeting for coffee.

"Good evening, ma'am."

Back then, I was still a rookie attorney.

It was the biggest case I'd ever taken.

So I gave it everything.

He'd killed a man who used his power to assault his little sister.

The victim had been stabbed more than a dozen times.

One fatal blow, and I might've argued self-defense.

But this?

Maybe because I'd spent more than twenty years as someone's little sister, I understood that kind of rage.

So I prepared like my life depended on it.

I even used public opinion to help his case.

On verdict day, everyone expected Wyatt to get the death penalty.

Instead, he got a few years.

A miracle.

And the best case I'd ever won.

That win made my name.

Later, good behavior and community supervision got him released early.

I picked him up the day he got out.

The second he saw me, he grinned.

"Well, look at you. Not such a rookie attorney anymore."

We became close friends.

I was always buried in work, so Wyatt often picked Gigi up and brought her home.

Sometimes he took her to amusement parks.

I kept telling him he didn't owe me anything.

Helping him had been my job.

He always acted like he couldn't hear me.

Instead, he took care of us so I could throw myself into work.

Everyone called me a genius.

What they didn't know was that someone stood behind me, giving everything and asking for nothing.

Whenever an angry defendant tried to corner me, Wyatt stepped in.

Seeing him come home bruised always made me mad.

And weirdly touched.

"Are you trying to get yourself thrown back in prison?"

"No." He didn't hesitate. "I don't want to be away from you and Gigi."

My face got warm.

I tossed him a bandage. "Even if you did, too bad. My hourly rate's insane now. I wouldn't have time for your case."

Whenever I lost a case and couldn't shake it, he'd bring a beer and sit with me on the beach.

He told me stories about people he'd met in prison.

How low they'd fallen.

How they'd clawed their way back.

Even as an attorney, I'd never heard those stories from someone who'd actually lived it.

By the time he finished, my latest loss—and even everything I'd survived as Nina—felt small.

Wyatt never bought me expensive gifts.

But he taught me love.

He taught me life.

Then one day, a fire broke out in an apartment building near mine.

I shoved Wyatt toward the exit.

"Take Gigi and go!"

But he didn't hesitate.

He threw both of us over his shoulders.

As the fire spread, my vision tilted.

I watched the flames climb his body.

His feet.

His calves.

By the time the firefighters appeared, he had nothing left.

He dropped to his knees.

As they lifted me onto a stretcher, I reached for him.

On the ground, he forced a crooked smile.

"Don't worry. I'll be fine."

Wyatt always kept his promises.

But this time...

He lied.

All I did was shorten his sentence.

He paid me back with his life.

It wasn't worth it, Wyatt.

The dream kept replaying those last moments—Wyatt surrounded by flames.

I didn't want to wake up.

Just one more second.

I wanted to see him again.

***

"We spent five years tearing the world apart for her. Now you finally find her, and you don't even tell me? And you let this happen?"

That voice...

Miguel?