Deputy Wilson,
Two women.
One journal.
Same heartbeat, different chapters.
Sara wrote you the prologue.
Tessa will write you the ending if she survives the climax.
Question is:
Which story do you want to live in?
Flip the page before I bind it shut.
Tick tock.
P.S. Deputy Wilson?—
Two women, both in love with you…
how do you do it?
P.P.S. Don’t worry. She’s fine.
Save for the fire.
Scout didn’t move.
His pulse didn’t spike.
It slowed.
His eyes stayed on the page.
“Fire?”
Burke followed his gaze. Read it again. Slower this time.
“House fire,” Burke said at last. “Big case. Asheville. Four years ago.”
Scout answered without looking up.
“Right shoulder.” Scout had seen the scar.
Seen it. Touched it.
Burke nodded.
“Don’t fold it again,” Burke said. He was already reaching into his coat. “Let’s do this right.”
He pulled out an evidence bag, snapped it open with practiced hands, and held it out.
Scout kept the letter flat in his gloved fingers and slid it carefully into the plastic. Burke sealed the strip with his thumb.
Only then did Burke speak again.
