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He takes my face in his hands and kisses me in what I can only assume is gratitude. But it’s not necessary. Our family will be an elaborate tapestry made from dark and light, hard and soft, pain and comfort.

And it’ll warm our son.

Wicker decides, “Pace can check it for bugs or whatever voodoo the Barons put on it when he gets back from class, and then we’ll move it upstairs.”

“Perfect.” I sigh. “I should probably go tell Dylan and Chris to stop hacking up my garden?—”

The door swings open and Ballsack rushes in, phone still in his hand. The pallor of his face makes my stomach drop before the words even leave his mouth. “That was Remy,” he says, voice tight. “They found a body. A girl.”

The air knocks out of me, my knees going weak, but before I can crumble, Wicker catches me, holding me upright. I barely hear myself when I ask, “Is it her?”

“It’s not Stella.” Eugene swallows, but before the relief washes over me, he adds, “It’s Laura.”

“Laura?” It’s not until he says her name that I realize how much I’d held out hope that she’d just left Forsyth for something better.

“She’s dead?” Wicker asks, tightening his hold on me.

He nods. “Remy’s uncle called because she’s West End. There aren’t a lot of details, but…” He looks pleadingly at Wick. “Are you okay if I head over to West End? Everyone’s there and?—”

“Sure, man. Fuck. Yes. Go, be with your people.” He shoves his hand in his hair. “I’ll start making some calls. Use a little of this newfound sway to see what I can find out. Verity and I can fill in the guys when they get home.”

“I’m going, too,” I announce, still feeling unsteady. “Let me get my bag.”

“Red, you know you can’t do that. Lex wants you close to home.” His gaze drops down to my belly. “Just in case.”

“I’ve got two weeks before this baby hits full term.” My heart is pounding, and suddenly being over at the gym, with my mother and friends, is less of a want and more of a need. “There’s no reason I can’t ride two miles across town to be with my family.”

“Your family,” he repeats with a slow blink.

“You know what I mean.” His jaw sets, but I’m already working my way out of his arms. The urge to go is tugging me to my old home like a magnet. “Wicker, she was my friend. They’re all my friends. I just want to be with them.”

After a moment, he relents, “Fine. But you’re not going alone.”

“Verity will be safe with me,” Ballsack assures. “I promise.”

Wicker is already snagging a set of keys from the hook against the wall. “I know she will be, but she’ll be twice as safe with both of us.”

I grab Wicker’s hand and squeeze. “Thank you.”

He tugs me close, pushing a lingering kiss into my hair. “It’s the people, Red. Not the things.”

Life in West Endhas never been easy. We don’t live in palaces made of gold or historic brownstones. Our territory is industrial, and our hobbies and work lean toward rougher, more physical trades. Both fighting and the gun business are dangerous. The years after Davis, Manny, and Sarah were run off, when the territory was under Saul’s rule, were hard on the community. I might have been young when I lived here, but I well remember that. We’ve lost a few guys to Scratch and the other junk Lionel Lucia slung throughout Forsyth, but this…

I haven’t seen the gym like this since Tatum Cross’ suicide—well, murder. Not that we knew it at the time.

As soon as we enter, I almost wish I hadn’t come. The anguish and grief feel like a low murmur in the cavernous building. Andrea has her arm around Maggie’s shoulders, both of them with mascara-stained cheeks. Kaz has his arms wrapped around Kathleen, and Louie strokes Daphne’s hair as he whispers something private into her ear. In the back, near Mama’s shut office door, Sy rubs the back of his neck while Remy paces back and forth, his marker twirling erratically in his fingers. Nick and Lavinia stand off to the side, his forehead pressed against hers as he whispers to her, wiping his thumbs under her wet eyes.

It’s only when Wicker and I approach that he looks up, straightening at the sight. “Ver,” he says, giving Wicker a dubious look. “You didn’t have to come.”

“Yeah, I did,” I reply, hoping that bringing a Prince into this vulnerable, hurt moment isn’t adding to the strain of it.

When Lav sees me, most of that worry goes out the window. She both perks up and falls apart at the same time. The hug we share is awkward with my massive stomach between us, but she doesn’t let go, clutching me tight.

“It’s so fucked, V,” she says. “She was one of the first girls to ever look at me and see someone other than a Lucia. When she disappeared, I hoped she’d just…” Her words choke off with a sob.

“Me, too,” I tell her. “I thought maybe she got the fuck out of here. Was living at the beach or some place where she could just vanish and start over.”

But even though neither of us probably wants to admit it, the scenario seemed unlikely. Laura was happy here. She and Ballsy didn’t exactly have a romance for the ages, but she had someone who treated her well. She had friends, school, and ambitions. But that hope of her hightailing it out of this wretched city was better than the alternative.