Page 114 of Whispers in the Night

“Sorry to interrupt,” Morris said, not sounding sorry at all. “But Holloway needs you both in the conference room. We’ve got family members arriving for notifications.”

“Right. Yes. We’ll be right there,” Harper managed, trying to smooth her hair.

Morris was grinning as he left. “You’ve got lipstick on your collar, Kane.”

After he was gone, Harper and Silas looked at each other and started laughing—slightly hysterical laughter that released more tension.

“So much for being professional during work hours,” Silas said, wiping at the lipstick mark on his collar.

“To be fair, the door was closed.”

“Morris has terrible timing.”

“Or perfect timing, depending on your perspective.” Harper straightened her clothes and tried to compose herself. “Come on. Families are waiting.”

The notifications took most of the afternoon. Parents, siblings, partners of the nineteen victims, brought into private rooms to finally learn what had happened to their loved ones. To see the evidence that proved Dale Sutton had killed them. To understand that their years of not knowing, of hoping against hope, were finally over.

It was brutal, necessary work. Harper had done victim notifications before, but so many in one day was overwhelming. Watching family members process grief, rage, relief, devastation—all mixed together in reactions as unique as the victims themselves.

Some families had suspected their loved ones were dead. Some had held onto hope. All of them deserved answers, and now they had them.

Between notifications, Harper found herself seeking out Silas. A brief touch of hands in the hallway. His presence besideher as she reviewed files. The way his eyes found hers across rooms, checking that she was okay, silently offering support.

By six p.m., all nineteen families had been notified. The evidence had been catalogued and photographed. The reports were being compiled. The case—all nineteen—were officially closed.

“Go home,” Holloway told them. “Both of you. You’ve been at this for nine hours straight. The rest can wait until tomorrow.”

At the cabin, Harper collapsed onto the couch, emotionally and physically drained. Silas sat beside her, pulled her against his side.

“Nineteen families,” Harper said quietly. “Nineteen people who’ve been living in limbo for years, and now they finally know.”

“You gave them that. Closure. Justice,” Silas praised with a squeeze of her shoulders.

“Sutton gave them death. All I did was document it.”

“No.” Silas turned her chin to face him. “You hunted him across multiple jurisdictions. You built the profile that identified him. You walked into that warehouse knowing he wanted to kill you, and you kept him talking long enough for us to save you. You gave those families everything that Sutton tried to take away—dignity, answers, the knowledge that someone cared enough to catch their loved one’s killer.”

Harper felt tears prick her eyes. “It doesn’t bring them back.”

“No. But it means they didn’t die forgotten. And their families can finally grieve properly, can finally move forward.” Silas wiped a runaway tear from her cheek. “That matters, Harper. You matter.”

She kissed him then, pouring all her exhaustion and grief and love into it. Silas responded with equal intensity, his hands gentle despite the passion between them.

When they broke apart, both breathing hard, Silas rested his forehead against hers. “I know you’re exhausted. But I need you to know something.”

“What?”

“I want this. Us. Not just now, not just while the case is active. I want forever.” His voice was fierce, determined. “I know you’re based in Nevada and I’m here in Oregon. I know long distance is hard. But I want to try. I want to make this work because losing you—actually losing you, not just distance—would destroy me.”

Harper felt something tight in her chest loosen. “I want that too. And I’ve been thinking...” She paused, the decision crystallizing. “The FBI has field offices in Portland. I could request a transfer. Be closer.”

His hope-filled eyes danced between hers. “You’d do that?”

“I’d do that. Not just for you, though you’re a big part of it. But because maybe it’s time for a change. A fresh start somewhere that isn’t haunted by old cases and old grief.”

Silas smile was instant, and he kissed her again, softer this time. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”

They ordered dinner—Thai food from the place that had become their default—and ate curled up on the couch, talking about everything and nothing. The case, yes, but also their childhoods, their dreams, the future they were building together.