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“Cora and I were just comparing man maintenance tips,” she joked, and Liam slapped her ass lightly. As they turned to go, she shot a glance back over her shoulder. “Hey, party this weekend at my house. Be there or be stricken from my good graces forever.”

“Yeah, we’ll be there.” Bishop nodded, his hand still tracking a warm path over my thigh.

I gave Mr. Tyson my usual nod as I slipped into his class at sixth period. Things around school hadn’t changed much between us now that we knew who he was—we still barely spoke, but his careful observation of everything around him made a lot more sense now.

Eli glanced at me and then quickly looked away. He never spoke to me anymore either, although the look on his face the few times I caught him glancing at me made me certain that he was holding a grudge against me and my boys close to his heart.

It was a problem we’d have to deal with eventually, but right now, we were all obeying the “stand down” orders that’d come from above.

After school, the boys dropped me off at home, and I kissed them all goodbye before grabbing my backpack and heading inside. But as I pushed open the front door, my footsteps slowed.

Sobs were coming from the kitchen.

Mom.

Oh, shit.

I rushed inside, slamming the door behind me. Automatically, I thought of what could have made her so distraught.

Had something happened to Dad in prison? Maybe we were about to lose the house. Or maybe it was something worse.

I dropped my school bag on the floor and raced into the kitchen, going to my mom’s side immediately, my gaze catching hers as I put a hand on her shoulder. Whatever awkwardness and tension had existed between us for the past several weeks vanished in my worry for her.

“Mom? What’s wrong? What happened?”

Through her tears, she tried to speak, but the words choked in her mouth. I stared at her, my heart hammering in my chest, and it took me several long moments to realize that she wasn’t crying—not fully.

She was… smiling. Laughing through her tears.

“Your father,” she was able to say eventually. “Your father—he’s going to be released. All the charges dropped. Everything we lost reinstated—the house, the cars, everything. We’re going home, Cora.”

I stumbled back a step, my hand slipping from her shoulder.

The news hit me, but I didn’t think I quite took it in fully, not all at once at least. Nathaniel hadn’t even mentioned that he’d found a lead, let alone that he had followed it, and certainly nothing close to him doing something about it. I couldn’t help but blink and look at my mom like she’d grown another head.

The boys would’ve told me if Nathaniel had told them anything. He just… did all of this? Just like that?

“What—what do you mean?” I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper.

“Your father, Cordelia.” Impatience seeped into her tone as she turned to look at me, tears still shining on her cheeks. “They’re releasing him. Everything is being put right. The charges against him were dropped. He was arrested on false evidence, planted evidence. It’s all being thrown out.”

I blinked, shocked. It was too much to take in all at once. “It is?”

“Yes!” she blurted, her tone almost man

ic. “Abraham Shaw, an old business partner of your father’s, set him up. Tried to make your father take the fall for his illegal dealings. But it’s all come to light. Abraham has been arrested.”

Her face lit up again as she spoke, as if she couldn’t contain her joy. She pushed away from the table and wrapped her arms around me—the first time she’d hugged me since before any of this had even happened. The gesture felt hollow, but I didn’t fight it, breathing in deeply before letting out a relieved, grateful sigh.

Luke Carmine and Abraham Shaw had worked together to frame my father.

There were so many questions I still had. Had the men been partners, or had one hired the other, recruited him to help? Why had they targeted Dad? Simply because he was an easy mark to shift blame to since he’d done business with Abraham before? Or for a darker reason? Some kind of grudge?

But one thought rose above all those others, settling at the forefront of my mind.

I knew it…

Dad didn’t do those things.

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