Page 74 of I’ll Be Watching You

“I can be super annoying when necessary,” I said. “Send me her contact info.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Ava Angelhart

Ava had been silent for most of the flight to Colorado Springs, and even quieter during the long forty-five-minute drive southwest through the mountains, plateaus and grassland that led to Florence. Quincy drove, and Rita sat quietly in the back seat.

She wasn’t herself. She hadn’t been herself in days.

She hadn’t been herself in years.

The past forty-eight hours had been a whirlwind. She had been reacting, not thinking. Letting fear drive her decisions. That terrified her more than anything. She had lost control.

Her mind spun in circles. She worried constantly about her children, about what might happen now that they were searching for the truth. Even Tess, who had stood by her side from the very beginning, now looked at her with suspicion. Jack, as always, was a rock, but she felt him pull away, separate himself from her even when he kissed her goodbye at the airport.

Margo had been the most vocal from the beginning. Ava had sacrificed her relationship with her daughter on the altar of fear. Yet . . . Margo, under her anger and disapproval, had been the most supportive this week. It was like now that she knew she had been right all along, she could put the three years of deception aside to find the truth.

Above all, Ava worried about Cooper.

He shouldn’t be in prison.

He shouldn’t be here. At Supermax.

This was punishment for monsters. Not for a man like Cooper, a healer who had sacrificed everything to keep his family safe.

But that was what fear did. It warped the truth until you didn’t know which direction was up.

She exhaled slowly as Quincy pulled the car into the lot, the intimidating shape of the federal prison rising behind high fences and coils of razor wire. By the time she stepped out of the car and felt the crisp November air hit her face, something inside had settled.

Resolve.

The time for reacting was over. She wasn’t going to be led by fear anymore. She would see her husband. She would get answers.

And then she was going to burn this entire conspiracy to the ground.

She walked into the prison with a spine of steel because pride was all she had. Pride and her deep love for her husband.

Security at Florence ADX was on another level. Cameras everywhere. Cold stares from guards. Multiple secure doors they had to be cleared through. They were scanned twice, IDs scrutinized under the harsh glare of overhead fluorescents. They stated their purpose three separate times.

Finally, they were escorted to a sterile, windowless waiting room. The kind of place where hope came to suffocate. They were the only three in the room.

“Ava,” Rita said, taking her hands. “How are you holding up?”

“Better,” she said, and meant it.

A minute later, a guard stepped through the steel door. “Lawyer only,” he said, not bothering to make eye contact.

Ava stepped forward, her jaw tight. “I’m his wife. When can I see him?”

The guard just stared at her, his face like granite. “Lawyer. Only.” He looked at his clipboard. “Marguerita Garcia.”

“Rita,” she immediately corrected.

“Your ID says Marguerita, correct?”

Rita mumbled, “I should have legally changed my name when I was eighteen.”

Ava smiled, just a bit. Rita hated her given name because of the endless teasing when they were kids. Even now, when they had a family dinner at Tom’s restaurant, he would serve Rita with a flourish. A special margarita for the lovely Marguerita.