LOGINMARL'S POV:I leaned back in my chair. "Tell me more about this friend of yours."Hotch's expression softened. His eyes drifted toward the window, and something flickered across his face, something that looked almost like longing."She was my junior in law school. Same year, different class. We studied together, worked on cases together, spent late nights in the library together." He paused. "She was the smartest person I ever met. Could have done anything. Could have been anything. But she fell in love with the wrong man and threw it all away.""The wrong man?""Alistair Vane."The name landed in the room like a stone dropped into still water. I kept my face neutral, but my pulse quickened."Vane," I repeated. "The tech guy? The one who's always in the news with that actress?""That's him." Hotch's jaw tightened. "He married my friend years ago, and she gave up everything for him. Her career, her independence, her sense of self. And now he's thrown her aside for someone else. Draggin
MARL'S POV: The night I found Mary, I had been tracking a signal. The bracelet had a small tracker embedded in the clasp, something I had added years ago, back when I still believed I could find her. The signal had been dormant for so long that I had almost given up hope. Then, without warning, it moved. A police station. I had rushed there immediately, my heart pounding, my hands shaking. After all these years, I was finally close. Finally within reach of the answer I had been searching for. But what I saw when I arrived was unexpected. Alistair's wife was being harassed. The police had locked her in a cell with gang members. I could see her through the small window in the door, her torn blouse, her bare feet, the fear in her eyes. She was surrounded, cornered, outnumbered. And the officers on the other side of the door were doing nothing. If I continued tracking the signal, I might finally get closer to the woman I was looking for. I could have walked past that cell, ignored
MARL'S POV:I sat in my office, staring at the growing stack of case files on my desk without really seeing them.The afternoon light slanted through the blinds, casting stripes across the polished wood. Outside, the city hummed with the usual sounds of traffic and construction and people going about their ordinary lives. Inside, everything was still and silent. The way I liked it.People's perception of me was exactly what I had expected.Slightly wealthy. Highly capable. Picky about cases, the kind of lawyer who only took work that interested him. Difficult to work with. Constantly surrounded by wealthy acquaintances who tolerated me because I was useful.Some of the jealous ones whispered behind my back. They said my high win rate came from flattering rich clients or using underhanded tactics. They said I had never won a case on merit alone. They said I was a fraud wearing a fancy suit.Even some so-called friends believed it.I had heard the whispers for years. They slid through c
MARY'S POV:"Mary." Her voice was warm, familiar. "It's been so long. How are you?""I'm fine," I said. "I need to ask you something.""Of course. Anything.""I'm getting divorced. I need a lawyer."Silence.Long, heavy, uncomfortable silence.I could hear her breathing on the other end of the line. Could hear the rustle of papers, the click of a keyboard, the quiet sound of someone trying to figure out how to say no."Mary," she said finally, "I want to help you. I really do. But... Alistair Vane is one of our biggest donors. If I take your case, I'll lose my job. And so will half the people in this firm.""I understand.""Do you? I'm so sorry. I wish I could—""It's okay," I said. "I understand."We said goodbye. I hung up the phone.And then I sat there, in the empty kitchen, and I let the silence swallow me whole.The last lawyer I met with was a woman named Eleanor Cross.She was in her late fifties, with silver-streaked hair pulled back in a tight bun and glasses perched on the
I had sent them through his lawyer. Through his secretary. Through every channel I could think of. And every time, the response was the same: silence.He was ignoring the papers. Pretending they didn't exist. Living his life as if I had never been a part of it, as if our marriage had been nothing more than a minor inconvenience he could simply outlast.There had once been a time when I still clung to hope.A foolish part of me had believed that maybe, somewhere beneath all the lies and betrayals, Alistair still loved me. Maybe, in his own twisted way, he was trying to protect me. Maybe he was just confused. Maybe he needed time.Now I knew better.He was just a coward. Instead of facing reality, he chose to run from it. Instead of taking responsibility for his mistakes, he buried them beneath a carefully crafted fantasy and pretended the problem no longer existed.He wanted to have everything. The wife at home, the mistress in public, the daughter who worshipped him. He wanted to keep
MARY'S POV:She turned and walked back toward her room, her bare feet padding softly against the hardwood. Her shoulders were slumped, just slightly, the way they always were when she was trying to be brave.I watched her go, and I felt something inside me harden.Not anger or sadness but it was something colder that was becoming more permanent.***That night, I didn't sleep.I lay in my bed, staring at the ceiling, counting nothing in particular. The house was quiet around me, the type of quiet that only came after midnight, when the world had finally stopped moving. Somewhere down the hall, Elowen was asleep, her small body curled around her stuffed rabbit, dreaming of a father who might show up for once.I thought about the parent-child event. About Elowen's face when I told her I would try. About the way she had nodded, accepting the lie before I had even finished telling it.She knew.Somehow, impossibly, she knew that her father wasn't coming. She knew it the same way she kne
HANNAH’S POV:Amelia gasped dramatically. “PANCAKES?!”“Pancakes, fruit, and everything you like.” I announced as I recalled there was a private chef who we could snap our fingers and everything we desired would be served in a blink of an eyexAmelia cheered and jumped up, accidentally dipping her
HANNAH’S POV:He parked outside one of my favorite restaurants. It was called Lovelies and it was a cozy little place that made the best homemade takeouts. It was one of the notable identifications for me at how the city had developed over the past years of my absence. I remember there used to be a
3RD POV:Cherry threw a handful of confetti at him. “We thought you’d like a little noise before you go back to being boring again!”Martin appeared with a tray which had lasagna she had made for him while in the hospital and he asked for more, grinning. “I told them you’d be craving this more than
HANNAH’S POV:THE NEXT DAY:We were still at the resort and watching the sunrise was one of the things I thanked myself for being awake to do. I did some work out, took care of my hygiene, replied to a few emails and went to check on the kids.My heart skipped a beat when I got into their rooms and







