Page 32

Jade

I pull at the hem of my long-sleeve T-shirt, trying to smooth out the wrinkles that match the disarray inside me. Five days. It’s been five days since Rhys left. Sleep slips through my grasp, and when it finally comes, it’s restless, tossing me between sorrow and rage. And then there’s the worry—for him, for me, for Alexis and the future of Allerton Mining. There’s no peace for me anywhere.

I need an escape, to outrun the emotions that chase me even in my dreams. So here I am, tugging on my running tights, seeking solace the only way I can access right now, with the pounding of my feet against the ground.

I’m mid-stretch when Matt’s voice startles me out of my focus. “Planning on leaving?” he asks, his tone casual.

I straighten, fixing my gaze on him. A part of me wants to snap, to tell him it’s none of his damn business where I go or what I do. But that part is exhausted, barely a whisper against the louder voice that recognizes he’s just looking out for me, as he’s paid to do.

“Going for a run,” I say.

“Wait up. I’ll come with you,” he says, already turning toward his room. I almost protest, my heart not willing to share this time with anyone. But then he adds, “We’ll run together. You don’t have to talk to me.”

Even so, can I handle company? I’m not sure. But being entirely alone with my thoughts is suddenly more terrifying than enduring Matt’s silent presence. What if something were to happen? What if someone approached me, looking for Rhys? “Five minutes,” I concede with a nod.

“Five minutes,” he confirms.

Four and a half minutes later, I stand on the curb and press play on my phone. Music floods my ears, a pulsing beat that drowns out most other sound and, hopefully, my own restless thoughts.

“Jade,” Matt’s voice cuts through, and I reluctantly take one earbud out. “I’d rather you didn’t run with those.”

My fingers tighten around my phone, irritation flaring. “It helps me focus,” I snap.

“They make it easy for someone to sneak up on you.”

“I thought that’s what you were for.”

He gives me a look.

“Fine,” I relent, pulling the other bud from my ear and shoving them into my pocket. “But I need the pace fast. Can you keep up?”

He shrugs. “I’ll do my best.”

An unexpected surge of competitiveness ignites within me. He’s tall and packed with muscles that speak of strength but not necessarily speed. “We’ll see about that.”

“Ready?” he asks.

“Always,” I reply, and we take off down the street.

Matt sets a brisk pace that has my muscles warming and my breath coming more quickly. Despite myself, I’m impressed.

“Fast enough for you?” he teases, breathing evenly as he glances over with a raised eyebrow.

“Keep it up, muscle man,” I retort, pushing myself to match him stride for stride. “I might just make you eat those words.”

“Wouldn’t dream of slowing you down.” He chuckles.

Matt’s stride is steady beside mine. He’s always been like this—solid, dependable. But there’s something in his eyes today that makes me wonder what he’s not saying. Has there been a threat I don’t know about? Has something happened back in San Francisco?

Beaver Creek Village unfurls around us as we zip through its streets. “Left here,” I pant, gesturing toward a narrow trail that carves a serpentine path through the thick trees.

Matt nods, and we veer onto the cross-country trail, our sneakers crunching on the path. We cruise along, my breath misting in the cold air, and I feel grounded and present in a way I haven’t since Rhys left. The trail demands my attention with its twisting turns and sporadic muddy patches. There’s no room for sorrow or anger here, just running and breathing.

Still, I can’t quite outrun the regrets, the whispers of what I should’ve said to remain a part of Rhys’s life.

“Keep this pace?” Matt asks.

“More,” I gasp, unwilling to show weakness. He obliges, and the pace shifts from punishing to brutal. My legs burn with effort, and my chest tightens, but I push through.

Eventually, we loop back, the village coming into view again, serene and untouched by our battle against the elements and ourselves. As we slow to a walk, my muscles protest, and I bend over, hands on knees, fighting for every gulp of air.

“Good run,” Matt says casually, barely seeming winded. He stretches his arms above his head, rolling his shoulders with a grimace.

“Thanks,” I manage between breaths. “You’ll…feel it tomorrow?”

“Definitely,” he admits, though he doesn’t look like someone who’s been pushed to his limits. I straighten up slowly, meeting his gaze, and an unspoken respect passes between us.

“Thank you for running with me,” I tell him.

“Anytime,” he replies.

Back inside, I wander aimlessly around the house. I don’t have anything to occupy my time. Other than a steaming cup of chamomile tea, I don’t have anything to keep me busy.

You need to pack, I remind myself. It feels like a monumental task, given the emotional weight everything holds now. My hands glide over the first batch of mugs I’ve crafted, each one a fragment of my life here. The remainder are still in the kiln, cooling at their own stubborn pace. I have a few more days before they’ll be ready to be swaddled in bubble wrap and placed in boxes for shipment home.

For now, I settle on a shower, and after, as I pad into the living area, running a comb through my damp hair, my phone pings—a message. I pick it up to find an unfamiliar number. My thumb hovers over the notification.

415-867-5309: It’s Alexis. I’ve discovered something about Alan’s information, which is why I’m using a burner phone. Call me.

The fact that Alexis feels these measures are necessary sends a ripple of unease through me. If she’s worried, then this is serious. Like everything else right now.

I slide my finger over the screen, pressing the call button. As it rings, I realize I’m holding my breath, bracing for whatever revelation waits on the other end.

Static crackles through the connection before Alexis’s voice cuts in, distant but sharp. “Jade?”

“What’s with the burner phone?” I ask.

“Can’t be too careful,” she replies, and I hear the shuffling of paper, the telltale sign of her anxiety. “JP cornered me today,” she says. “Out of nowhere he’s claiming Alan was mentally unfit and was caught making files on other employees.”

“Why would he bring that up now? Do you think he knew we were talking about Alan?” I ask, incredulous. “Do you think JP is bugging your phone? And what’s this about unfit? You’re head of HR. Why is he telling you about Alan now? Did he not tell you this before?”

“I wasn’t part of Alan’s termination, probably because I would have followed our protocols and made sure he could be terminated without legal issues, and I would have done an exit interview.” There’s a pause, a heavy breath. “All of this seems more like confirmation of a wrongful termination, dressed up in a convenient lie. If anything, it corroborates what Alan said.”

I pace across the cool hardwood floor, thoughts racing. “He knows what we have, and he’s building a counterclaim,” I muse aloud. “Fabricating evidence to invalidate Alan’s claims against him.”

“Exactly.” Alexis sounds as though she’s pacing too, miles away, but right beside me in spirit.

“You need to meet with Jim Adelson,” I tell her after a moment. “He told me he’d confirmed all the information. He should be able to tell you how. Then if it feels right, book a meeting with Dad. And maybe bring Jim into it.”

“Jim’s got credibility,” she muses. “He could tip the scales if Dad’s not ready to hear this. I’ll talk to him.”

“Good. I’ll send his contact information over on this phone.”

“Thanks.”

“Be careful,” I tell her. “JP has no guardrails.”

“I promise.”

I bite my lip as I stare out the window. “I’m coming back to San Francisco.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Where will you stay?” she asks.

The loft is empty, a blank canvas waiting to be filled. Returning there feels like reclaiming a piece of myself, even if it means facing the shadows I left behind. “I think I’ll start at the loft. Best way to ensure I get all this work done on time.”

“Okay, let me make some calls.” I can hear the click-clack of computer keys as Alexis taps into her vast network. “I can get you some furniture delivered in the next few days. Just the basics to start with. Would that help?”

“Yes, that would be great.” My heart swells with gratitude. “You’re amazing. Thank you.”

“I’ll always be here for you. Remember, it’s us against the world.” There’s a smile in her voice, a warm embrace across the digital divide. “Let’s meet up when you get here, okay?”

“Definitely.” I smile, feeling stronger. “I still have a few things to finish and pack here, but I’ll see you soon.”

“Safe travels, Jade.”

With those parting words, we hang up, the line going silent but the connection between us never stronger.