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I paused. Yes, I thought. We had an…understanding. At least, I thought we did.

Damian was calmer now, oddly so. “Did you know that I watched him?”

I froze, staring at Damian as his words sunk in. He watched Silas? What did he know that I didn’t? I couldn’t tell if he was testing me or telling me the truth. My heart stuttered in my chest, the beat feeling suddenly off, uneven to its normal pattern.

“I watched that Thorne,” Damian continued. “He stood there the entire time, watching you and Delane dance. He looked like he might combust.”

His eyes flicked to mine. “You don’t think that pissed him off?”

Oh. I knew it had.

Damian raised his shoulders slightly, as if asking a question. “You don’t think he’d try to make a statement against this family?”

I was feeling lightheaded. Damian’s words piled onto my shoulders heavily, too much for me to keep up with anymore. I was struggling. I felt…lost.

Silas had been watching me? And worse … he was upset?

Something about Damian telling me this didn’t make me feel any better about trying to protect Silas. Instead, a new fear settled in. Maybe my relationship with Silas was different than I had ever allowed myself to understand. The thought that I didn’t truly know what was happening between us—that I had misread our interactions entirely—left me feeling unsteady, out of control.

And I didn’t like that at all.

“Deputy Chief Hansen?” A voice called from around the corner. “The team is waiting to talk with you and your brother.”

Damian’s eyes locked with mine and his entire persona shifted into business mode. “Ok,” he whispered so that only I could hear. “You were sick. You went upstairs to rest during the party.”

I barely had a moment to nod my agreement before Damian placed a firm hand to the small of my back, turning me around and guiding me in the direction that the cops were waiting for us.

DELANE

When I arrived back at my house, two men in suits were standing on my front porch. Even though it was pitch black outside, the soft yellow glow of my porch light illuminated them, two shadows, ominously hovering over my welcome mat.

I bristled immediately. They looked too sharp, too put together to belong there. After all that had happened this evening, I was shaken to the bone. Not only that, but Damian’s comment about how he was worried for my safety had my nerves standing on end. I trusted no one.

Should I call the cops?

For a second I hoped they hadn’t seen me. Perhaps the darkness had concealed me enough so that they wouldn’t be alerted to my arrival. I veered to the side of my driveway, heart pounding, debating whether to run to a neighbor’s house instead. I was too scared to approach on my own. Who were they?

One of them turned their heads in my direction. “Ms. Marsh?”

I froze. They knew my name.

Both men moved toward me at once, their expressions tight with concern. I stepped back, instinctively.

“Are you all right, miss?” one of them asked.

“I’m fine,” I said quickly, following their gaze to my hospital clothes—the thin, wrinkled fabric and frayed middle section. I must have looked like an escapee from a mental hospital.

“Who are you, and why are you on my porch?” I asked, surprising myself with the bold question, despite my current appearance.

“There’s been an accident,” the second one chimed in.

My stomach dropped. “What are you talking about?”

They must have the wrong address. They couldn’t be looking for me.

They exchanged a look, hesitation flashing between them. “You are Ms. Marsh, correct?”

“Yes,” I said, my voice sharper now. “Would you mind telling me what’s going on?”