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“Of course.” I nod, “I’ll take care of her.” My thumb wipes at the tear on Shelby’s cheek, but it’s quickly replaced.

I hear feet shuffling, and the door closes soon after.

“I didn’t know,” Shelby whispers with a shake of her head.

Stroking her hair back, I kiss her forehead.

“I’ll take care of you,” I promise, trailing kisses down to her cheek.

Squeezing my eyes closed, I rest my forehead against her ear. Bent over her awkwardly, I wrap my arms around her the best I can while avoiding the sling on her right arm and the cast on her left.

The air in my lungs burns until eventually it leaves, taking my grief with it.

One after another, tears escape, dripping into the curls below.

“I’m sorry.”

Shelby’s words make my grief grow. She has nothing to apologize for. I tell her just that.

“Don’t you dare. You saved Riley. You saved her.” I punctuate my words with kisses, then frame her face. “You never have to apologize to me. I owe you everything.” I kiss her lips, and her face distorts as more of her own tears escape. “I’m sorry I couldn’t stop this.”

Shelby shakes her head.

“It’s not your fault.”

Foreheads resting together, we grieve.

CHAPTER FORTY

Leonard

The hospital room has been silent for a while.

Still, sterile, and quiet.

Movement in the hall draws my attention.

Cromwells. Kaleb and Samantha approach hand in hand. Pushing off the hard seat, I meet them outside the door.

I force the words from my mouth, painful and bitter, as I explain about the baby. Kaleb and I stand watching as Samantha rushes to comfort her best friend.

I watch as Shelby’s last shield comes down and she sobs, even harder than before, for the loss of our baby, the accident, hell, maybe even for the secrets I now force her to keep.

The sight rips my heart out.

I force myself to tell Kaleb about her injuries; I deserve to say them out loud.

Together, we keep watch over our girls, as one offers comfort and the other seeks the strength she needs.

Samantha is giving Shelby something that I can’t right now—peace.

Sounds of crying and whispers dim until the room is once again quiet, and my sadness turns to rage once more.

Cooper will pay for this, all of it, but he’s not the only one to blame.

My throat feels like it’s closing. “This is your fault.” I force out.

“He may have been there because of us, but Cooper’s actions are his own,” Kaleb argues.