Page 85 of You, Only You

It was terrifying. It was wonderful. I had no idea what I was doing, and for the first time in my adult life, that felt okay.

Then, on the morning of the fourth day, Will's phone buzzed with a news alert.

I watched his face as he read it, saw something shift in his expression that I couldn't immediately identify. Without a word, he handed me the phone.

The headline was from a Portland newspaper:

PROMINENT UNIVERSITY PROFESSOR ARRESTED IN EMBEZZLEMENT SCANDAL.

The article detailed how Dr. Richard Vance, Nicole's rapist, the man whose protection by the university had turned Will into what he was, had been arrested by federal agents for embezzling over half a million dollars from research grants. The evidence had surfaced during a "routine financial review" triggered by an anonymous tip.

I looked up at Will. His face was carefully neutral, but his eyes told a different story.

"The Reeves files," I said slowly. "You found something."

"Vance had a consulting contract with one of the shell companies. Small, legitimate-looking. But his books were a mess." Will kept a steady face; he was serene. "He thought he was untouchable. Arrogant. I just highlighted the discrepancies. Made sure the right person would see them."

He hadn't fabricated anything. He'd turned on a light that was already there.

Before I could respond, his phone rang. The gentle tone I'd learned to recognize. Nicole.

Will answered immediately, putting it on speaker. "Nic?"

Her voice came through, choked with sobs. But these weren't the hollow sounds of trauma. These were loud, gasping tears of release.

"Will, I just saw... The news. Is it real?"

"It's real." His voice was thick. "They arrested him this morning."

"He's gone." She was crying so hard she could barely speak. "They took him in handcuffs. On television. Everyone could see." A shuddering breath. "It's over. It's finally, finally over."

Will couldn't respond. He just held the phone, his eyes closed, listening to his sister cry tears that were seven years overdue. A single tear traced down his own cheek, the first I'd ever seen from him.

I took his free hand. He held on like I was the only solid thing in the world.

"Was it you?" Nicole asked finally, her voice steadier.

Will hesitated. "The truth was already there. I just turned on the light."

A watery laugh came through the speaker. "Thank you." A pause. "I love you, you know. Not for this. Just for being my brother."

"I love you too, Nic."

After they hung up, the penthouse was silent. But it was a different kind of silence; clean, clear, like the air after a storm.

Will looked at me, his eyes red-rimmed but clearer than I'd ever seen them. Something had changed in his face. The constant vigilance, the tension that had lived in his expression since the day we met, it was gone.

"It's over," he said softly.

I stood and wrapped my arms around him. He buried his face in my neck, his body trembling with the aftershocks of seven years of grief, finally finding release.

We stayed like that for a long time.

"So," I said eventually, pulling back just enough to see his face. "Apartment hunting tomorrow?"

He laughed freely, surprising even himself. "You're thinking about real estate right now?"

"I'm thinking about the future." I touched his cheek, wiping away the trace of tears. "Our future. Unless you have other plans?"