Before she could speak, the door creaked open.
Kyle Denton stood there. Frozen. Watching too closely.
“Am I interrupting?”
Scout’s face shut down. “Nope.”
And he walked out.
Deputy Scout Wilson
God, why did I say it like that?
He’d seen the way her face closed when he told her to let it go. Like he’d shoved something fragile back into a box and nailed it shut.
He hadn’t meant it like that.
Sara was the priority. That part was true.
But last night hadn’t been a distraction.
It hadn’t been a mistake.
It had been the first honest thing he’d let himself feel in a long time.
And he’d just told her it didn’t matter.
Sheriff Burke Scott
Through the station window, Burke watched Scout cross the lot, head bowed against the cold. Snow whispered across the windshield as Scout climbed into his truck, hands tight on the wheel.
Burke sipped his coffee, the bitter heat grounding him.
Something in Scout’s posture told him the weather wasn’t the only thing breaking.
24
Sara Parker — Reading Lauren's Journal
I told myself I wouldn’t write about Keller.
I’m writing about him anyway.
After Benton—after walking in on him with that student—I thought humiliation had limits. I was wrong. Everyone could feel it when I walked by: the woman who didn’t know. The fool who thought she mattered.
Keller noticed.
He always noticed things—my coffee going cold, how my laugh disappeared. He began stopping by my desk with reasons that weren’t reasons.
“You didn’t deserve that,” he said once, quiet enough for only me.
For days he lingered in doorways, kind and patient. He leaned on the edge of my desk, sleeves rolled, that easy smile he gave everyone—but with me, it felt intimate. Intentional.
Then one night, after classes ended, he asked me to stop by his office.
“Just to talk,” he said. “You’ve been carrying too much alone.”
There was bourbon on the shelf, half gone. He poured two fingers and slid the glass toward me.
