Page 23 of The Silent Hour

If I ever betrayed my wife, I wouldn't just be betraying her. Julia would bury me. Latoya would unbury me and cut me to pieces. My mother and mother-in-law would roast what was left over a fire they'd been keeping warm for years, and my baby sister would pull up a chair just for the pleasure of it. By the time I was nothing but charred bits of a once-powerful man, my father and father-in-law would look down at the ash, exchange a glance, and handle the rest without a word between them.

I loved my wife. Madly. The kind of madly that had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with the fact that she was worth every single one of them.

I straightened my chair and pulled the Ruiz file toward me. "We'll start with Ruiz," I said. "Draft a final skeleton for A and B. I'll take C."

"Oh, look, you’ve stopped daydreaming," Eric replied dryly, already typing.

I ignored his tone and let the work come in and cover everything else like a tide.

CHAPTER SEVEN

JULIA

I MOVED THROUGH THE upstairs hall, doing the kind of mindless tidying that came second nature as Megan Thee Stallion's new album blasted through the house, synced from my phone to our home's Bluetooth system meant for entertaining. I'd switched to this after Lana Del Rey sang Diet Mountain Dew to me.

The laundry was folded. Hardwood steamed. Clownfish fed. All the simple, minor things that ate up my morning hours.

The twins technically had their own bedrooms, but they'd begged to share since they were toddlers, and I hadn't had the heart to separate them. So one room stood as their domain, the heart of their little kingdom.

I pushed the door open and smiled. Each side bore their personalities like fingerprints. Aria's half was bold, bright, and loud. Posters covered the walls, basketball shoes sat near the desk where her PC was set up. She was on a Minecraft kick lately, disappearing into her pixelated worlds every chance she got.

Ellie's half was neater, gentler. A sketchpad lay open on the nightstand, a small vase of Lego flowers pressed against the window. Her Nintendo Switch was tucked neatly into its dock, waiting for her next turn at Animal Crossing. I liked to think they got that particular trait from me. I was both a Fortnite and COD girlie myself, much to Ethan's amusement.

The bookshelf they shared told the same story. Ellie was currently devouring The Baby-Sitters Club, one pastel spine after another, while Aria only wanted Goosebumps, their covers dark and neon.

Tying it all together was the mural Ethan had hired an artist to paint across the accent wall. A sprawling tree, its roots winding along the baseboards and its branches stretching over both beds, dotted with blossoms and hidden animals you only noticed if you looked long enough.

Aria had a hawk perched above her pillow. Ellie had a fox curled beneath hers. One tree. Two halves. It made the room feel whole in a way furniture never could. They were usually good about cleaning up after themselves, but a few stragglers always slipped through the cracks. A doll without its shoes. A few colored pencils scattered like confetti.

It took me no time at all to get everything squared away. The ordinary rhythm of it was strangely comforting, a reminder that not everything in life needed to be grand or complicated. Sometimes it was just... this. Picking up after your kids.

The sound of a second text coming through my phone downstairs interrupted my music. I tucked the last colored pencil back into its bin, gave the mural one final look, and headed downstairs. The screen was still lit when I reached across the kitchen island for it, the time creeping toward midmorning.

The first text was from Ethan, sent a little earlier.

Going into my meeting. I'll call you at lunch or sooner if I can steal a minute. Love you, bella. Last night hasn't left my head. Don't let it leave yours either.

Heat coiled low in my stomach, his words clinging to me in a way no routine love you ever could. Unfortunately, Ethan's lunch could fall anywhere between one and three, if he sat down to eat at all.

I typed back quickly.

Love you too. Good luck in your meeting.

The second text was from the group chat I shared with Latoya, Mehgan, and Carmen.

Still on for lunch? Mehgan had asked.

Toya replied with half a dozen emojis that translated to hell yes. Carmen added the name of the restaurant she'd chosen, her usual overachiever touch.

I tapped out a quick confirmation.

I'll be there.

I checked the time again and knew I needed to get my ass in gear. As I headed back upstairs, my thoughts turned to the Ruiz case. That was what had been eating up so much of my husband's time lately.

Ruiz wasn't some ordinary client. He ran an underground empire in South Florida, the kind of man whose businesses looked legitimate on paper but bled into drugs, extortion, and rumored gun trafficking when you scratched beneath the surface.

It was ugly and twisted, the kind of case that made headlines if the wrong details ever slipped out. Ethan and the firm weren't defending Ruiz's innocence. They were working to contain the damage, manage the evidence, and navigate the legal labyrinth that kept a man like him in play.