Jade nods against my shoulder.
And neither of us sleep that night.
Chapter Twenty-Six
JADE
We go to the police station first thing, both of us bundles of anxiety that can’t rest, not even for a second.
We don’t know what Mila will do next, but we aren’t taking any risks.
Devon holds my hand as we wait on plastic chairs that squeak every time we move. Last night, I watched the ceiling fan rotate for hours while Devon's arm stayed wrapped around me. Every time my eyes drifted closed, I saw Mila's face contorting in that coffee shop, then remembered the text she sent to Devon:Accidents happen.
"Mrs. Locke?"
A female officer approaches us—she’s in her mid-forties, her dark hair scraped back, and eyes that have probably seen a thousand versions of this story before. Her badge readsOfficer Gray.
"That's me." I sound like I’m far away.
"Come on back. Both of you."
We follow her into a small room with fluorescent lighting. I catch my reflection in the window—a fat mess with dark circles under my eyesand greasy unwashed hair—and look away before the critique begins.Not now.
Officer Gray listens as we walk her through everything. The conference, the hotel room. The kiss Devon finally admitted to. Mila's texts. Her pregnancy claim. Yesterday's confrontation at the coffee shop. The threats.
She takes notes without interrupting, her pen scratching against the notepad, the only sound in the room. When we finish, she sets down the pen.
"You've documented everything?"
Devon nods. "Screenshots, timestamps, contact methods. My wife created a shared folder."
“Good.” Officer Gray looks at me with respect. "Here's where we are. What you're describing is harassment, and the threatening language in those texts—particularly the 'accidents happen' message—gives us grounds to pursue a protection order."
Relief floods through me so intensely that my hands shake.
"How long does that take?" Devon asks.
"We can file for a temporary order today. A judge can grant it within twenty-four to forty-eight hours. The full hearing comes later." She pauses. "I need to be honest with you both. A piece of paper won't stop someone who's truly unwell. It creates legal consequences if she violates it, but?—"
"It won't physically protect us," I finish her sentence.
"Correct. I'd recommend varying your routines. Different routes to work. Being aware of your surroundings. If she contacts you again after the order is in place, don't engage—document and call us immediately."
We spend another hour filling out paperwork. My hand cramps around the pen as I write Mila's name over and over, describing incidents in a detached way that removes the terror.
When we finally walk out into the afternoon sun, I feel like my soul has been sucked out of me.
"I need to work tonight," I say.
Devon's brow furrows. "Jade?—"
"I can't sit in that house waiting for something to happen. I'll lose my mind."
He doesn't argue.
The bar is quiet for a Wednesday. I busy myself with counting bottles and restocking glasses, letting the mindless repetition soothe me.
My phone buzzes in my pocket every hour with texts from Devon.All okay here. Love you.I respond with hearts and keep working.
