Page 35

The hospital room was too warm after the bone-deep cold of the tunnels. Sheila sat propped up in bed, an IV dripping fluids into her arm, thermal blankets piled over her legs. Her core temperature was almost back to normal, but her fingers and toes still tingled with the memory of frost.

Finn dozed in a chair beside her bed, his injured side clearly bothering him though he'd refused to go home. Star curled in another chair, her dark hair falling over her face as she flipped through a photography magazine she'd found in the waiting room.

"Look at this," Star said suddenly, holding up the magazine. "They're offering winter photography workshops at the resort." She paused. "Well, they were. Before everything."

Sheila studied her ward's face. "Since when are you interested in photography?"

Star shrugged, trying to seem casual but not quite managing it.

"I don't know. It's just... when all this started happening, I looked up some of Bradley Greenwald's photos.

The real ones, not just his social media stuff.

They were actually pretty amazing." She glanced at the magazine again. "I thought maybe... but it's stupid."

"It's not stupid," Sheila said softly. "I think it's a great idea, actually." She paused, coming to a decision. "And I want to be part of that, if you'll let me."

"Seriously?" There was a spark in Star's eyes—hope? Excitement?

"Seriously," Sheila said. "I'd love to be a part of that with you." She smiled.

Star smiled back—briefly before she distracted herself by picking at a thread on her sleeve.

"There's something else we should talk about, though," Sheila said. She wished she could skip this next part, but it was too important not to address it.

"Jake, right?" Star muttered. "He wasn't taking advantage of me if that's what you think."

Finn stirred in his chair but kept his eyes closed—listening, Sheila suspected, but not wanting to interfere.

"Star." Sheila waited until the girl looked up. "He was an adult dating a fourteen-year-old. That's not love, that's predation."

"You don't understand. He made me feel special."

"Of course he did. That's what predators do.

" Sheila leaned forward despite her body's protests.

"But you know what? You don't need some creep to make you feel special.

You are special. Your interest in photography?

That's special. Your resilience after everything you've been through? That's incredible."

Star's eyes welled with tears. "I just wanted... I don't know what I wanted."

"You wanted to feel grown up," Finn said quietly, opening his eyes. "To make your own choices. But part of being grown up is learning to recognize when someone's trying to manipulate you."

Star wiped her eyes. "I'm sorry. About Jake, about skipping school, about everything."

"We're not angry," Sheila said. "We were worried. There's a difference. And I know I haven't made your life any easier, what with how distant I've been. I'm sorry about that."

Finn sat up straighter, wincing. "What she's trying to say is that we care about you. You're family now, Star. Which means you're stuck with both of us hovering and worrying and probably embarrassing you in front of your friends."

A small smile tugged at Star's lips. "Even after everything I did?"

"Especially after everything you did," Sheila said. "Because you're a teenager. You're supposed to make mistakes. Our job is to help you learn from them, not punish you for them."

Star nodded, her face brightening with something that looked like hope.

A knock at the door interrupted them. Deputy Barnes entered, looking apologetic.

"Sorry to disturb you, Sheriff, but I thought you'd want to know right away. We got Wells."

Sheila sat up straighter. "Where?"

"Trying to break into his cabin. Needed supplies, I guess. Gave himself up without a fight—said he was too cold to run anymore." Barnes glanced at her notepad. "He's already talking about pleading guilty. Says he wants to explain his 'artistic vision' to the world."

"Of course he does," Sheila muttered. At least that nightmare was over.

A shadow crossed Sheila's face. "What about Mark Davidson? How is he?"

"Stable," Barnes replied, checking her notes. "They airlifted him to County General during the storm. Multiple lacerations, hypothermia, but the doctors say he'll make it. His family's with him now."

Sheila let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. The thought of Mark had been gnawing at her throughout her own recovery—another victim she'd been forced to leave behind in the chaos. "Good," she said softly. "That's... that's good."

After Barnes left, Finn moved to sit on the edge of Sheila's bed. "You okay?"

"Yeah." She took his hand, warmth spreading through her finally-thawing fingers. "Just thinking about Tommy."

"We'll find him," Finn promised.

Star put down her magazine. "What he did... why did he do it?"

Sheila shook her head. "I don't know. But I'm going to find out." She squeezed Finn's hand. " We're going to find out."

They sat together in comfortable silence, the hospital machinery beeping softly in the background. Outside, snow continued to fall, covering their small town in a blank white canvas, hiding whatever secrets still lay buried beneath.

"I want you to know," Finn said, entwining his fingers in hers, "that I'm sorry for being jealous about you working with Tommy."

Sheila stared at him, surprised. "You were right to warn me. He was dangerous."

"But that wasn't why I warned you. I warned you because… hell, sometimes this just feels too good to be true, you know? The life we have together. It feels like, any minute now, the movie's going to end and I'm going to be thrust back into reality."

"I get it," Sheila said softly. "I feel the same way, too, sometimes.

Working this case without you… it was like leaving my heart behind.

But you can't really do that, can you? If you try, if you deaden your emotions, you become unresponsive to the people around you.

You miss out on what's going on in their lives—just like I've missed out on so much of Star's life. "

She glanced at Star, but Star seemed to be too engrossed in her magazine to notice what was being said. Either that, or she wanted them to think she wasn't listening.

"You're being too hard on yourself," Finn said.

"Am I? I want to be present with her, with you. And that means I can't compartmentalize like I used to. I need to be all me, all the time."

Finn smiled and rubbed her knuckles with his thumb. "Works for me, because I just so happen to like all of you."

She grinned back. " All of me?"

"Well…" He made a show of tipping his head back and forth as if considering. She playfully punched his shoulder.

The door opened just then, revealing Gabriel Stone. He stood awkwardly in the doorway, still wearing his heavy winter coat, snow melting on his shoulders. His eyes moved from Sheila to the IV in her arm, his face a mixture of concern and discomfort.

"Dad," Sheila said, her smile slipping away.

Gabriel cleared his throat. "Heard you had quite a night."

The tension in the room was palpable. Finn stood, touching Sheila's hand briefly. "Star, let's get some coffee."

Star looked like she wanted to protest, but something in Finn's expression made her follow him out. The door clicked shut behind them.

"You look terrible," Gabriel said, moving to the chair Finn had vacated.

"Thanks." Sheila managed a weak smile. "You should see the other guy."

"What happened out there? All I got was that there was some kind of incident at the research facility."

Sheila studied her father's face—the new lines around his eyes, the way his hands wouldn't stay still in his lap. She told him everything: the investigation, Wells' murders, the confrontation at the facility. When she got to Tommy's betrayal, Gabriel's face went completely still.

"Tommy Forster," she finished. "Ring any bells?"

Gabriel was quiet for a long moment, his eyes distant. "The name sounds familiar..." He straightened suddenly. "Wait. Hank Dawson's nephew?"

"That's what he claimed. Still don't know whether that's true or not, but either way..." She leaned forward despite her body's protests. "He was planted, Dad. Someone sent him here to find out how much I knew about Mom's murder. How much you might have told me."

Gabriel's face went ashen. "They know you've been talking to Eddie Mills. And they know they can't buy you off. Once you start unspooling that thread…"

He stood abruptly, pacing the small room. "This is my fault. I should have told you everything right from the start instead of trying to protect you."

Sheila said nothing. Her father was right—he should have told her the truth, whatever it might be. Protecting her with silence had clearly failed: She'd become a target even though she hardly knew anything about why her mother had been killed.

Gabriel sighed heavily. "I've known for years there were some bad apples in the department, people willing to do just about anything to pad their pockets.

But I could never prove who was involved.

" He ran a hand through his silver hair.

"Could it be Hank? God, I don't want to believe that. He was my friend."

"Was he? Or was he placed to keep an eye on you after Mom's death?"

Gabriel sank back into the chair. "It would explain some things. Conversations that ended when I entered rooms. Files that went missing. The way certain cases were quietly buried."

"Like Mom's case?"

"Yeah." Gabriel met her eyes. "I'm done hiding things from you, Sheila. Whatever's going on, we face it together from now on. No more secrets."

Sheila felt tears threatening. "I'd like that." Her voice was barely a whisper. She couldn't recall the last time she had ever felt this close to her father. Watching her father's face in the harsh hospital lighting, she saw his own eyes glistening.

"I've missed you," Gabriel said softly. "Even when you were right in front of me, I missed you. Keeping secrets... it changes you. Makes you hold part of yourself back, even from the people you love most."

"I know." Sheila thought of all the times she'd wanted to ask him about her mother's case, all the moments she'd held back. "I used to watch you in your study, staring at those old case files. I wanted so badly to help you carry that weight."

Gabriel reached out, taking her hand in both of his. His fingers were warm and calloused, just as they'd been when she was small, and he'd bandaged her scraped knees or guided her hands on her first target practice.

"You were always so much like her," he said. "Your mother, I mean. That same fire, that need to find the truth no matter what." He squeezed her hand. "I thought I was protecting you, but maybe I was just afraid of losing you the same way."

"You won't lose me, Dad." Sheila gripped his hand tighter. "But I need you to trust me. Trust that I'm strong enough to handle whatever's coming."

Gabriel nodded, and in that moment he looked somehow lighter, as if sharing this burden had lifted years from his shoulders. "Together then," he said. "No more walls between us."

A knock interrupted them. It was Deputy Barnes again, this time looking excited. "Sheriff, sorry, but we've got something. Tommy Forster's credit card was just used at a gas station in New Mexico."

Sheila sat up straighter. "New Mexico?"

"Heading for the border, maybe," Gabriel said.

"And if he gets there, we'll probably never get another chance to question him." She swallowed hard and shook her head bitterly. Then, coming to a decision, Sheila threw back the blankets and began detaching the IV from her arm.

"What are you doing?" Gabriel asked, rising to stop her.

"I'm going after him," she said.

"You're in no shape to do that, not after what you just went through."

She met her father's gaze. "That's why I need you to go with me."

He stared at her in silence for a few moments. He seemed to be trying to come up with some reason to deny her request.

"Okay," he said slowly. "We'll go together. But make me one promise, first."

"What's that?"

"Promise you'll bring him to justice. Promise you won't stain your hands like he stained his by leaving you for dead."

"I promise," Sheila said. She pulled the IV free, then bandaged the cut. As the monitor beeped a warning and footsteps approached down the corridor, her father studied her eyes.

Finally, he nodded. "It's settled, then. We'll go after Tommy together. And we're going to figure out just how deep this corruption goes—no matter where the truth leads us."