Chapter 2

"Think really hard about what you're doing," Garrett said, standing up to his full height.

He had expected tears. He had expected her to beg, or use her quiet reputation to bargain for a bigger settlement.

He never expected her to throw his wedding ring back in his face.

"I've never been more sure of anything," Naomi replied.

Garrett let out a harsh laugh, stepping closer.

"You think this is brave? The city is full of rival crews. The second word gets out that you dropped the Whitmore name, you're target practice."

He turned toward the hallway and snapped his fingers.

A tall man in a black field jacket stepped into the room.

"Starting right now," Garrett said, "Captain Lyle handles your security. He will watch your every move and make sure you don't leave the grounds until you get some sense back into your head."

Naomi's eyes shifted to Captain Lyle.

She caught the brief, faint nod he gave toward the side corridor—where Tabitha was peeking through the shadows.

That nod was enough. Lyle wasn't there to protect her.

"I don't need your guards, Garrett," she said.

"You don't get a say."

"Mommy?"

At the end of the hall stood seven-year-old Jude in his navy flannel pajamas, clutching a small backpack to his chest.

Inside were two shirts, one sock, his toothbrush, and the little tube of model glue Garrett had promised to use on his plane that afternoon.

Instead, Garrett had spent the hours prepping the East Suite for Tabitha.

Jude's dark eyes flicked over the divorce papers on the table before looking up at his mother.

Garrett crouched down to his son's level.

"Jude, go back to your room. Mommy and Daddy are just having a conversation."

Jude didn't look at Garrett.

He walked right past his father and tucked his small hand into Naomi's.

"I'm going with Mom," Jude said, his voice steady.

Garrett's jaw worked. "Jude, stop being silly. This is your home."

Before Garrett could reach out, heels clicked against the hardwood.

Tabitha stepped into the light, draped in a cream cashmere sweater.

She crouched to meet Jude's eyes, but the boy edged closer to Naomi's side.

"Your father and I knew each other a long time ago," Tabitha said smoothly. "He made me a promise."

Her gaze met Naomi's for one brief second, then slipped away.

"You don't have to understand it tonight."

Jude didn't pull his hand away, but his face went completely blank.

Naomi looked down at Tabitha, keeping her tone light.

"You saved him at Saint Jude's, right? After he passed out, you pulled him all the way up those belltower stairs?"

Tabitha held the smile a fraction too long.

"Yes. Those narrow wooden steps were a nightmare."

Naomi didn't say another word.

Garrett couldn't correct her—he had been unconscious before the rescue ended.

But Naomi knew the truth: there were no stairs. She had dragged his body down into the flooded stone crypt beneath the chapel.

The last of Naomi's doubt vanished.